


Dirty Paws

by adomaniia (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Okami Hanzo Shimada, Werewolf Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-01-19 17:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12414516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/adomaniia
Summary: “It’s an honor to meet a god…” Jesse’s voice trailed off uncertainly, a slight question on the tip of his tongue lacing with the tone of his sentence. He watched in awe as the man’s eyes lit up in subtle amusement at his statement, and nearly had a heart attack when his heart jumped as the creature was suddenly folding himself into a kneeling position next to him, so that their knees were almost touching. In an instant Jesse became hyper aware of his presence, of his heat, of his smell; he couldn’t help but fidget when his eyes rose up to meet the man’s sharp, knowing gaze.“I am no god,” his voice, too, was celestial. The closest thing he could compare it to was silk or the calm waters of a lake… and Jesse swore he could drown in it.“An angel then, surely?”The statement was his undoing. The comment pulled a chuckle out of the creature next to him and it rendered Jesse lost, lips parting in a soft gasp that barely got past his throat. Had he any shame left, he might have blushed to at least show that he knew he was acting like a schoolgirl. But he was enjoying every goddamn second of this more than he should have been, and no such thing happened.“No, not an angel either."





	1. Chapter 1

He was tired.

The feeling had been persisting for a while now, dragging him along with it. By now Jesse felt like he wasn’t the one in control; he was merely an accessory, a faulty trinket being led like a child by his fatigue. It was more than just a physical feeling at this point. It was an all encompassing ache that threatened to burn him from the inside out.

He knew tired wasn’t the correct word for it. There was a plethora of better fitting words that he could use to describe his situation, and yet Jesse stubbornly refused to acknowledge them. He was tired. That was it. It would eventually pass and he’d start up life once again, get out on the road… join a steady business and start a nice family.  
Once he stopped being tired. That’s all it was going to take. It didn’t seem like too hard of a goal.

Even the thought of not being tired made him tired.

He stumbled briefly, tripping over his own feet as he continued to drag them forward. He had been running for a good few hours now, and even though he knew that with no doubt he was far ahead of the hunters after his hide… he didn’t want to stop. If he stopped that meant he’d give up, and if he gave up he’d die.

Changing back into this form had been hard, and Jesse was sure that he could have died from the pain he had put himself through just to do it. But it was safer this way - it’d be easier to recognize him as a giant ass wolf that had no reason being here. Hunters knew how to find him by his tracks, but it was harder if he wasn’t leaving any. This way he could keep the blood in, hide in places he couldn’t when he was towering over most bushes, and if worst came to worst… he’d go down in his more favorable form. He could die pretending he was human.

Jesse paused to lean against a tree, the effort of running for so long and the effects of his adrenaline running thin rendering him exhausted. He took the time to inspect the wound, wincing as his shirt stuck to it and shuddering once it peeled off with an unholy sound and an even worse feeling. By now it had stopped bleeding, but he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. It seemed better, but the yellow pus forming at the edges told him otherwise.

He pressed against the wound, now with enough time and safety to get the bullet lodged in there out. He regretted his decision instantly at the excruciating pain that traveled the entirety of his body and sent him flying back with a curse. He slumped against the tree and slid towards the ground soon after, clutching to his wound like he would a lifeline It hurt like a bitch, and yet he had to do it. With labored breathing and a soft whine Jesse stuck his fingers into the wound, this time managing to bite back the scream but splitting his lip in the process as he dug the bloody weapon out.

He threw it on the ground in disgust, body covered in a light sheen of sweat and desperately trying to calm his erratic breathing. By now the pain had become a part of him, radiating throughout his body in a deceptive kind of warmth. It wasn’t dull, he sure as hell felt it… but humans were extremely good at tolerating and getting used to pain.

He had a mechanical arm to prove it. This was a walk in the park in comparison.

The pain wouldn’t stop him from taking a smoke; if anything it spurred Jesse on with the need of something to calm his nerves until the pain died down. Blood was once again oozing freely from his abdomen, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he could care about was trying to calm his shaking hand enough to bring out a cigarillo and his lighter, and pressing the stick to his lips. It was soothing, and he stared out at nothing as the pain faded into a dull ache, eyes glazed over and unseeing.

Oh if Reyes could see him now. The man always told him to not waste his life away, to do something good with it and not throw it away haphazardly. And look at him now. A lonely renegade, sleeping in whatever abandoned or dingy place he could and taking up odd jobs just so he would not die.

A hell lot of good Reyes’ advice did when the world turned on Blackwatch like it was the plague itself. He was destroyed from the inside out, his family… his friends… his reputation and his redemption all gone in one second.

Gabriel always told him that killing wasn’t Jesse’s job. It was only ever supposed to be his.

Jesse liked to think he’d killed more men than Reyes ever had.

Jesse closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree, a grimace transforming his features less out of pain and more to stop the tears and the pain. He didn’t want to think back to such memories - he had enough on his plate right now without hearing Reyes’ imaginary voice reprimanding him. He was so tired. Tired of this, of running around and trying to find a future for himself with the past still weighing heavily on his ass. He couldn’t care less if others didn’t forgive him… the biggest problem was that he couldn’t forgive himself.

He didn’t know if this was how he was going to die, hunted down, against a tree with a cigarette between his teeth and slowly bleeding out. It was hardly the death he expected or imagined, he’d like to think he would go down either in a fiery blaze of glory or just in his bed quietly with someone he loved quietly comforting him. In reality he figured this was exactly the kind of death he deserved. It was most likely going to either be this, or lung cancer, and this seemed more merciful.

He could feel himself fading, slowly losing consciousness as more and more blood leaked out of him. He didn’t even try to stop it at this point. It seemed leaving the bullet in would have been more healthy, but the silver had been getting to him. If he was going to die he’d prefer it to be through bleeding out then to torture himself until death took him.

As the world turned dark, he thought he saw a flicker of white in the shadows. He figured it was an angel of some sort, though he couldn’t help but wonder what an angel was doing coming for him.

And then he finally gave up.

* * *

 

He woke up some time later in a room he did not recognize, with no recollection of how he had gotten there or where there even was. His memories were blurry, and Jesse could not recall any memories that could have possibly explained his predicament. He vaguely remembered a white shape, being carried, and soft fingers worrying over him… but in his delirious blood-loss state, that could have very well been a dream.

He didn’t even know how long he had been out. It could have been minutes… could have been days. The thought troubled him at first, but Jesse knew that there was no one left to care if he disappeared. He sat up, picking at his skin, now perturbed for a different reason.

One glance around the enclosed space revealed that it was a very homey atmosphere. It smelled strongly of wood, with a pleasant undertone that he could not quite place. There were small trinkets scattered around, wood carvings and jars full of strange pants he had no name for, as well as a variety of flora hanging around the area. It was nice. Comfortable. He hadn’t set foot in a real house for ages now, never if he really thought about it. The shelter he had never amounted to a home, despite being comfortable numerous times.

Jesse felt like he could happily live here. He wondered briefly about how wise it would be to kick whoever lived here out to take over and just disappear. Becoming a hermit in the woods sounded like a nice profession. He’d be far away from the majority of his problems. Sadly, the biggest problem would still be left with him - the fear of being alone.

So busy scanning his surroundings, Jesse failed to notice that his shirt was off until he looked down. Replacing it were bandages, wrapped carefully around his wound with a strange sweet smell secreted from them. He also found that his mechanical arm wasn’t on his hand, and one quick glance around found that it was lying discarded on a nearby nightstand.

He picked it up, gingerly trying to attach it back on. The process proved to be more difficult than he expected - years of having others put it back on for him, then years of not taking it off himself had rendered him rusty at trying to put it back on. He fiddled with the arm a while longer, but eventually gave up with a frustrated sigh and placed it carefully back on the nightstand. It was a comfortable weight, but Jesse could do without it just fine. Besides, it was more so the comfort of knowing he could protect himself rather than the actual weight of the metal itself. The hand was foreign, not truly his. It was simply an extension of himself, and here he didn’t feel like he needed it. Whoever wanted to kill him could have already done it, and instead he was lying in a strange bed halfway back to decent.

He realized how strange it is that he felt calm in this situation despite the fact that he knew almost nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to feel too worried about his predicament either, something soothing his mind against such intrusive thoughts. There is suspicion gnawing at the back ends of his mind, but it is dulled, numb… barely an afterthought. The curiosity, on the other hand, is prevalent. It was an ache in his very bones and after a few more seconds of sitting on the bed and waiting, Jesse carefully maneuvered himself off, careful not to hurt himself further.

The wood is cool under his feet when they hit the ground, and he hissed in surprise at the feeling while quickly wrenching them away. He tried again, this time more carefully and gingerly, allowing his nerves to adjust before continuing and making his way out of the room.

The adjacent room was far warmer, and it didn’t take Jesse long to locate the source. A grand fireplace, elaborately designed out of stones and logs. It was gorgeous, if a bit out of place in such a quaint hut, but he cared less about it and more about the flames inside. He was drawn towards the fire, towards the warmth. He couldn’t see or smell the person (or at least he assumed it was a person - he wasn’t really sure who or what had brought him here) that had presumably saved him. So he decided to sit and wait instead, knowing that leaving now would without doubt spell out danger for him. Besides, the fire was far too comfortable for him to want to leave anyways.

Jesse maneuvered himself towards the flame, carefully settling down on the floor to lean against the couch opposite to it. He barely sat there for a few minutes staring at the fire before he felt himself slowly drift back off into an easy sleep.

* * *

 

He was startled awake soon after, when a new and sharper smell cut through his senses and ripped him out of his empty dreams. It paralleled the smell of the house, though it was far clearer and easier to pick up subtleties that had skimmed over him at first scent. It was something vaguely pinetree like, mixed with the smell of the dirt and the air after rain. There was something else there, underneath all that which was obvious. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but it wasn’t unwelcome. If he knew any better, he might have even called the scent sweet.

“Ah,” Jesse lurched back at the sound, merely a sigh but already sending him on edge. Abandoning their slow rise, his eyes instead snapped open, and he wildly searched for the source as it continued to speak. “I see you are awake. Good, I was scared you’d had lost too much blood already.”

His eyes then found him. At first he was but a shadow, hiding among the dark corners of what Jesse presumed was his own hut. But it was clear once he stepped out of that shade, that whoever this man was… he was not normal. As far as Jesse was concerned, that was a compliment.

His Ma had always told him stories of the wolf god walking among them, a beast from the far lands of Japan that appeared wherever he was needed. He hid in the mountains and woods that surrounded villages and cities, coming out only for those he deemed worthy. For those he cared to see.

His Ma had kindly opted out not to mention that the man was drop dead gorgeous. He was starting to doubt that the stories truly encompassed who and what the wolf god truly was. Jesse doubted anyone had ever seen him in the flesh, because it was impossible for him to grasp that nobody had half a mind to mention it.

And he had no doubts of the fact that this was the very thing that the stories told of. He sat there dumbstruck as the man nearly glided towards him, even his enhanced hearing barely picking up any shuffle of feet on the floorboards that with no doubt had creaked just minutes ago when he was walking on them. His sharp eyes danced in the golden light of the fire, reflecting it almost perfectly to reveal the fact that his pupils were just slightly too narrow, that his eyes were just a tad bit too bright. He noticed the hair too, and if the silvery strands that cascaded around his shoulders and back weren’t representative of every stereotypical image of god he’d seen thus far, then he’d think himself a madman at this point.

This was no hermit living in the woods who helped strange folk that stumbled into them. God or not, whoever this was he was far from normal. He couldn’t help but speak up and voice his opinions, shame thrown out of the window. If he got it wrong, he’d just hope the man would take it as a compliment.

“It’s an honor to meet a god…” Jesse’s voice trailed off uncertainly, a slight question on the tip of his tongue lacing with the tone of his sentence. He watched in awe as the man’s eyes lit up in subtle amusement at his statement, and nearly had a heart attack when his heart jumped as the creature was suddenly folding himself into a kneeling position next to him, so that their knees were almost touching. In an instant Jesse became hyper aware of his presence, of his heat, of his smell; he couldn’t help but fidget when his eyes rose up to meet the man’s sharp, knowing gaze.

“I am no god,” his voice, too, was celestial. The closest thing he could compare it to was silk or the calm waters of a lake… and Jesse swore he could drown in it.

“An angel then, surely?”

The statement was his undoing. The comment pulled a chuckle out of the creature next to him and it rendered Jesse lost, lips parting in a soft gasp that barely got past his throat. Had he any shame left, he might have blushed to at least show that he knew he was acting like a schoolgirl. But he was enjoying every goddamn second of this more than he should have been, and no such thing happened. Oddly enough, the man didn’t seem to care and reprimand him for it.

“No, not an angel either,” the man leaned forward and McCree felt his breath catch in his throat, only to be filled with disappointment when he moved past him to stoke the flames. He was an idiot; of course nothing else would be happening, he had just met this guy a few minutes ago and he didn’t even know his name. But he couldn’t help but question whether or not he had correctly observed his molten gaze slowly raking across his exposed body before settling on the flames. Or was it just his vivid imagination and indecent thoughts?

He suddenly felt self conscious, running a hand through his locks and looking away from the man as he leaned back to settle his hands on his thighs. He focused on those instead, staring at the fingers and tracing them with his gaze. He still lifted it back up to those blazing eyes once he started to speak again.

“I am one of the okami.”

That was not a word he knew, or at least not well enough to associate a definition with it. Jesse believed he had heard it before in passing, but he didn’t know where or in what context. He didn’t even know from who - hell, he could have just heard it while walking down the street for all he knew.

His thoughts were cut short when he realized that the creature was still staring calmly at him, as if waiting for any inevitable questions. That, or he seemed content to simply stare at Jesse as if he could strip him apart piece by piece until he was laid bare with all of his troubles displayed for him to see. It certainly seemed he could do that with those eyes, and Jesse fidgeted again underneath it. It didn’t move. It remained trained on him as if he was the most interesting object in this entire house.

He seemed extremely calm and languid compared to Jesse, who was nothing but frayed nerves and stress at the moment. He was still injured, for one, and if the man wanted to kill him he had no doubts that he could easily do it even if Jesse was still whole. The wide span of his chest and slight bulge of muscle hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jesse underneath that fancy robe-like thing. His hands were calloused too - this was no gentle and frail flower. But other than that, what got to him the most was the fact that he couldn’t think straight (in both a metaphorical and literal way) with the man’s heat still radiating off and around him. It was a different heat from the fireplace, more persisting and unusual. He was ethereal in his entire being, and here Jesse sat next to him like he had any right… a dingy werewolf that could have been dead already in any other case.

He didn’t understand any of it.

He didn’t really think he wanted to.

“I’m… ah, flattered that you decided to help me. Though I was a goner there,” his Ma always told him to be respectful. It had completely slipped his mind at first (he didn’t blame himself, it was hard to focus on such things when his thoughts were shrouded by less respectful ideas) but he eventually remembered to actually thank this man for saving his ass when he thought he was surely going to die.

“I would not leave a fellow wolf out to die.”

Jesse's nerves snap, pupils dilating and narrowing as they settled on Hanzo, fairly sure that he was now visibly tense. It wouldn't be surprising. It wasn't something that many knew, and those who did usually didn't approve. He could end up dead... or worse.

It wasn't surprising that this man knew, given that despite not being a god there was definitely something different about him. He felt he could trust him, but years of stress and trying to hide it... he couldn't help but be on edge to be laid out so bare only minutes into meeting him.

He seemed to realize that he said something wrong, or at least something that wasn’t exactly pleasant. He sensed the man’s change in demeanor, the look in his eyes losing it’s intensity and turning caring... dare he say soft? “You are stressed. Do not worry, I have no intentions of hurting you,” the man murmured, leaning back slightly as if to punctuate his point. Jesse couldn’t help but feel guilty - it wasn’t this guy’s fault that pretty much his entire life had been screwed up since the moment he was born. Whatever sort of creature this was, it wasn’t one who seemed to want to hurt him.

“Yeah… yeah I figured, just… not used to having it out in the open so fast. Not many know about it and I’ve just met you barely a few minutes ago and you already know more about me than most. It was… unnerving, ‘s all,” Jesse murmured in apology, glancing down at his hand before returning his gaze back up to the creature’s. He found it was still trained intently on him, understanding and calm.

He was given a soft smile that took him aback, and then watched as the man stood up. Even doing that he seemed far more graceful than Jesse ever could be, the action looking more like the flow of water than just a simple movement. Jesse couldn’t help but stare in awe, eyes raking across the man’s body even knowing that he could barely even begin to imagine how he looked like under those clothes. But the strength and royalty radiated off of him in waves, and he knew he’d gladly give himself up to such an entity.

His shameless exploring was cut short when the man placed a hand gentle upon his head. His eyes dragged themselves off unwillingly from Hanzo’s clothed body to instead settle upon his eyes, which had now regained their cunning and sharp look though still carried the same warmth as before.

“I would like to know your name, lone wolf,” the man purred, and it might as well have been an incantation at the way his mind and body responded, both leaning forward far too eagerly for it to be normal.

It took a while for him to regain his voice, his mind having stuttered to a halt sometime in the past few seconds. “Jesse. Jesse McCree,” he responded numbly, and he felt like the smile the man gave him in turn was a goddamn treat.

“Jesse McCree,” if that wasn’t the sweetest thing he had ever heard then he swore he’d die once he heard it. Hearing the man taste his name like that, as if it was something sacred and delectable… it sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine. Heavens above, he was lost. There was nothing he could do to save himself, but he could try to at least save his sorry ass and retain some of his southerly charm to at least attempt to turn the tables.

A coy smirk found it’s way onto his lips, and he had to withhold a whine when Hanzo’s hand fell to his side and off of his head. He kept his cool, however, and tried to do what he set out to do. “And you, darlin’? What kind of name is attached to that pretty face?”

He wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or disappointed with the reaction he received. He seemed largely unaffected by the pseudo-flirting, offering Jesse just a small upturned twitch of his lips. He took it like a starved man nevertheless.

“Hanzo Shimada,” Jesse felt like he was being entrusted with a secret with the way Hanzo offered him his name.

“‘S a pleasure to meet ya, Hanzo,” Jesse responded, rewarded by another chuckle from Hanzo.

“Likewise, Jesse McCree.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Jesse!”

He braced himself against the wall before he could fall, clutching at his abdomen with a grimace on his face. He worked on ignoring the pain, so much so that he only realized a few seconds later that Hanzo was hovering around him worriedly, hands hovering just above his still-healing wound.

It had been a few days now, and he had stayed when Hanzo urged him to. At first he wanted to leave, to not have to worry about the idea that anyone would find both him and the Okami and kill them both, but he gave in when the man pointed out that he was in no condition to travel when he could barely walk from one room to the other without everything hurting. He had been mainly a freeloader, finding it hard to help in any day-to-day tasks, but he had convinced Hanzo that he was well enough to help the Okami carry things to the kitchen for their next meal.

He was proved wrong in a matter of seconds.

He tried to hide his disappointment as best as he could when Hanzo moved them away upon realizing that Jesse was alright, with no doubt wanting to give him enough space. Right now space was the last thing he wanted, but he didn’t voice his thoughts and instead offered Hanzo a grim smile.

“Be careful - you are still healing,” he didn't have much time to dwell on the disappointment of not having Hanzo’s hands on him, for they soon were, cupping around his cheeks and gently urging him to look down at the Okami. He was taken aback by the softness that encompassed his dark eyes and had to do a double take when he realized Hanzo had been talking to him.

“You are under my care now, you do not need to expend your own energy to help. Not in this condition,” the Okami stated, making sure that Jesse was still looking at him as he spoke. “Your job is to sit down and heal, although I appreciate the gesture.” At least he was appreciated, Jesse thought bitterly. That totally made up for the broken ego.

He still sat down at the table when Hanzo urged him to, although he made a show of not liking it as he went. But Jesse also couldn’t lie - sitting down soothed the pain greatly, and he let out a relieved sigh the moment he was in the chair, splaying his legs out almost obscenely to maximize his levels of comfort. Hanzo spared him only a brief glance and a small chuff of laughter before he turned around to continue cooking. The smells were intoxicating, a delicious mix of things he couldn’t even name. In the end, it didn’t matter too much as long as what he ate was edible, and he had full confidence in Hanzo’s abilities to cook. The Okami had an exquisite taste, if not a bit exotic for Jesse’s tastes. And even if he couldn’t cook (which he could), the last thing Jesse ate when he was alone was a poorly cooked fish and a whole lot of bread, so he’d willingly eat anything at this point. He hadn’t had a proper meal in months… years, even.

He was content sitting and watching Hanzo work, though he still felt guilty that he couldn't help in any way. He had been urged to sit and be still, however, so sit and be still he would. Hanzo never said anything about sitting still and quiet, however. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.

“What made you decide to help me?” He asked, the question itching at the back of his head for days now. He expected it to be an easy subject to broach, just some nice small talk to get to know Hanzo’s motives… but the moment Hanzo froze at the inquiry, looking up to stare at the wall in front of him, Jesse knew that wasn’t the case.

McCree knew the look of a man who was trying hard not to fall apart… he chose not to comment and acted as if Hanzo’s small breakdown had gone by unnoticed. The Okami was soon back to cutting, although Jesse could still tell he remained shaken by the question. By now Jesse had about fifty more of them, but he kept his mouth shut instead.

He knew when certain things were too fragile to approach. The problem was that he wasn’t quite sure what was or wasn’t a fragile subject with Hanzo.

“Sorry, darlin’ - you don’t have to reply if you don’t-”

“I simply couldn't let you die,” Hanzo interrupted, offering the hushed reply under his breath as if he feared speaking the words too loudly lest they become true. “That should be enough a reason.”

There was more. McCree could sense it, and he wondered briefly if Hanzo knew that Jesse knew. “Of course, darling,” he replied instead, relieved to see the tension in Hanzo’s shoulder deflate even the smallest bit. “It’s more than enough.”

“Good. Now. Eat up.” He eagerly ate up that which suddenly found it’s way in front of him, trying to ignore Hanzo gazing intensely at him from across the kitchen.

 

* * *

They had maneuvered outside shortly after Jesse was done eating, making their way towards the river that the gunslinger had grown to like. It was nice to watch life go on around him while the white noise of the water lulled him into a sense of tranquility. He also liked it because Hanzo liked it. The Okami came here often to meditate, and Jesse found he liked following the man to simply watch him, to memorize each feature and engrave it into his head.

One day, when he got better, he was going to leave. He wanted to remember as much as possible when he did so that he had  _ something _ keep him company on his journeys. Jesse wasn’t sure if Hanzo was aware of either of his intentions - those to leave and those that were the reason that he watched the godly creature when he wasn’t looking.

He liked to think that it was his little secret. He had been here only a few days, talked and laughed and walked with Hanzo for only those moments… and he was already worrying over the fact that he would somehow hurt him.

For now, those thoughts weren’t in his head. For now he was content to sit with Hanzo on the grass beneath the willow trees, staring out into the distance with Hanzo’s voice softly murmuring a tale to him. He couldn’t focus on it and had lost the idea a few good minutes ago, but he still indulged in simply hearing Hanzo’s voice at all. It was nice, hoarse but in a gentle way, and adorable when his accent interfered with certain words even though he tried his best to say them. He’d remember it too. If not all of it, then at least how his own name sounded on Hanzo’s tongue.

“Your bandages - we need to change them,” Jesse was ripped out of his daydreams when Hanzo’s hand found it’s way onto his shoulder, and the werewolf glanced towards the side where Hanzo was in question. “I have extra, we can do it here if you want we don’t need to head back.”

Jesse was more than content with it, not wanting to stand up to leave this serene moment. He simply nodded his consent and watched as Hanzo shifted slightly to get better access to his body. He had gotten his own new clothes, something Hanzo had insisted upon glancing at his ruined and hole-ridden old ones. Although it wasn't his style, Jesse had to admit that the fancy robes (or yukata, as Hanzo helpfully explained to him) were indeed quite comfortable. That, and it was easy to open them up.

No, he wasn't imagining how easy it would be to do the same to Hanzo as the okami leaned over him.

Jesse took in a sharp breath when Hanzo opened his yukata, half out of pain and half out of misplaced and completely unwarranted anticipation towards something that wasn't going to happen.

He still couldn't help but puff his chest out slightly in hopes that Hanzo would notice. There was always the slight hope that he would. Not that a magical being like him had any reason to even be interested in him in the first place.

It seemed like Hanzo either didn't notice, or he decided to politely ignore Jesse’s preening. He deflated almost instantly, although he had little time to be disappointed when he was promptly distracted by a sharp pain in his side and he cursed, flinching away.

“Darling - fuck give me a warning next time,” Jesse wheezed out between clenched teeth. He shot Hanzo an inquiring glance as the Okami laughed, then sucked in a sharp breath when his sly eyes met his own.

“I did. You were too busy trying to impress me to hear.” Shit. He was compromised, and his body quickly responded by flushing. Unable to meet Hanzo’s amused gaze (he swore the guy was taunting him) Jesse glanced away instead, running a hand through his hair.

“Not that you didn't, but still. I would rather have you prioritize your health, not my opinions,” the statement piqued Jesse’s attention, and he glanced up almost too quickly with unabashed hope in his gaze. He must have looked far too eager because Hanzo chuckled at the action and clicked his tongue to chastise him.

“Brace yourself,” the quick warning wasn't enough and Jesse cried out when Hanzo pressed the gauze against his wound. He grasped at the ground beneath them, looking for something - anything - to ground him. To say he was relieved when it was over was an understatement.

He felt disappointed when it was over, however, losing the heat of Hanzo’s presence when he leaned back. Thankfully he managed to hide the longing well enough when Hanzo looked back up towards him, leaning his back against the tree to gaze back.

“See something you like?” Jesse couldn't help himself, a cocky grin making its way up to his face. Hanzo scoffed in return, but the lack of any true disgust on him spurred Jesse on. “I can flex for you again if you want. Show you some real werewolf power.”

He managed to block the punch to his shoulder well enough, though the shock of it still threw him off guard. “Ridiculous,” Hanzo mused next to him, turning away once more so that Jesse could put down his defenses. “Can you be any more forward with your intentions?”

Could he? “Might as well be, darlin’” Jesse mused, moving his eyes towards the river instead though still hyper-aware of Hanzo’s presence next to him. “I've got no chance with a pseudo-god, so I figure I have nothing to lose but my dignity. And even that only I'll know about eventually.” Although he wasn't that sad about it, the thought still dampened his mood significantly.

It took him a second to realize that Hanzo’s gaze was trained intently on him, and once Jesse’s eyes rose up to meet it he found the expression was unreadable. “Darlin-?”

“Don't say that,” he was cut off by Hanzo’s stern voice, finding that the man was suddenly glaring at him. “You're more special than you think, Jesse.”

Disbelief washed over him, and Hanzo simultaneously furrowed his brow, as if sensing it. He said nothing as Jesse gave him a sad smile in return, shrugging. “It's fine, sugar. You don't have to try and get me to feel better.”

They fell silent, indulging in the white noise of the forest and the river. Jesse forced memories and negative thoughts out of his head, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Hanzo was doing the same.

“Why do you deny it?” Hanzo’s voice was surprisingly melancholy, drawing upon Jesse’s attention. But his features were cast away from the gunslinger’s keen eyes, and he found he couldn’t tell what was going on through his head. By the way he sounded, Jesse was sure that the thoughts weren’t pleasant… but he didn’t know much other than that.

Jesse didn’t know how to respond. He continued gazing at Hanzo instead, studying his features - the curve of his lips, his sturdy nose, the way his hair fell across his face. A nagging guilt wormed it’s way into his heart the longer he stared and eventually he too looked away to stare into the distance instead.

He had no words for Hanzo. He was glad when the Okami decided to pick up again, realizing he wasn’t going to speak. “All I see in you is good. How can you doubt it?” his voice was hushed, forcing Jesse to lean in to hear him properly. “You’re more human than anything I’ve ever met before.”

“Trust me, Hanzo. You don’t know me enough to say things like that,” Jesse murmured in response, fatigue aching in his bones. He was done with this conversation - they were getting uncomfortably close to the bad territories of his mind, and he had no intentions of visiting them now or ever. He stood up to leave, only to have Hanzo’s hand suddenly clinging onto his, the Okami's sharp eyes boring into his own with a silent question in his eyes, an even smaller plea.

Jesse pretended he didn’t see it, smiling sadly at the man. “I’m tired, Han. I’ll head back to your place.”

Hanzo didn’t fight when Jesse pulled away, and for some reason that hurt worse than anything.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“ _Jesse.”_

_He had been wandering for a while now, the heat of the desert sun blazing down upon his back. Although he was far beyond sweating at this point, the serape was still settled firmly upon his shoulders and his hat was still on his head._

_He paused briefly at the voice, surveying his surroundings without suspicion. It was easy to mishear things out in the west, when the sun and the loneliness got to you. He was alone, Jesse was sure, and upon finding nothing he continued on his way._

_The air was charged, although he didn't pay much attention to it. Just as voices were commonly heard in the wilderness, sensations such as these were too. He walked on with little hesitation, although he noted he didn't have a concrete destination._

_It was a dream, of course. He didn't need a destination._

_“Jesse.”_

_The voice was more insistent this time, forcing the gunslinger to a stop. A frown masked his features as he looked around, finding nothing but the empty space to greet him._

_“You can't run.”_

_With a low, resonating boom the world fell apart. Jesse could do little but let out a hoarse cry as the desert shattered, replaced by a thick nothingness that enveloped him as he fell._

_He never hit the bottom. Or maybe he did. Maybe a bottom didn't exist. All he knew was that one moment he was ceaselessly floating, and then he was standing again, cushioned by the void beneath, on top of and around him._

_“You can't run, Jesse.”_

_A low growl resonated throughout his core, but once Jesse tried to respond he found that his voice was gone. It was replaced by a harsh bark, which echoed around him. Echoing… taunting him._

_“You can't run from who you are. You can't run from your mistakes.”_

_He could. He could run forever if he wanted to._

_“Jessito,”_

_He ripped away when Reyes’ hand touched him, twirling around to face the man who was dead. The moment his eyes settled upon his old boss… his old friend, the man’s features shriveled, rotted, and were blown away like dust._

_All that was left in his wake was a pair of eyes staring judgingly up into his own. The wolf emerged from the darkness, and Jesse ran._

_They said he couldn't run forever. He said they didn't know him well enough._

 

* * *

He didn't know when he woke up, or if he had woken up at all. The shadows still danced across Jesse’s vision, haunting him… mocking him; he couldn't tell reality from nightmare anymore. The man clawed at his arms, leaving sore imprints that bordered on on bleeding as he tried to calm down from the panic. It did little to help. If anything, his anxieties got worse.

He also didn't know when Hanzo had appeared in the room. He hadn't noticed the Okami until he was suddenly at Jesse’s side, grasping at the hands that were so intent on hurting him. He firmly pinned them to the bed, although Jesse could faintly tell that he was putting up quite a fight. It was but an afterthought, however. He was more focused on fighting off the shadows to try and focus on Hanzo.

He didn't know, either, when Hanzo had started talking. Maybe it was the moment he arrived, or maybe it was when Jesse had calmed down significantly to understand him. Either way, the man’s soothing voice broke through the fog in his head, cooing soft words of comfort that Jesse could barely comprehend. At that point it didn't really matter what Hanzo spoke, more so than the fact he was speaking at all.

He didn't know when he had calmed down, only that once he did it was like a great wash of relief flooded over him.

They stayed in relative silence, Hanzo still sitting on the edge of his bed and giving him ample space and time to relax. Relaxation wasn’t an option as far as he was concerned, but he was still grateful for the thought. He refused to meet the man’s gaze as he spoke up.

“I… I'm sorry Han, I must’a woken you up-”

“Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice was soft, insistent. He lifted his head to watch the Okami as he gently lifted a hand to cup the gunslinger’s cheek, peering into his eyes and forcing him to listen. He was fairly sure the man was using some form of magic or the other. That or he depended so much on the comfort of other people at this point that he willingly gave himself up to such influence.

Pathetic.

He suddenly wanted to run away, to hide from himself and the world. It didn't sound awful to just disappear. He'd never been on the grid in the first place, so as far as everyone was concerned he never existed. Jesse McCree was a lie, an invention.

He ripped away from Hanzo’s touch, and the man let him. He didn't leave, however, remaining sitting on the corner of the bed and gazing patiently at Jesse, waiting for him to speak if he so wished.

He didn't. He wanted Hanzo to go away.

He also wanted him to stay.

He wanted to disappear.

Jesse balled his hands up into fists, grasping at the sheets beneath him, displaced by his restless sleep. His breathing became erratic once more as he struggled to calm himself down, although it became easier when Hanzo’s hand was once again on his body, a warm heat on his shoulder.

“I'm… fuck I'm sorry Han, you shouldn't have to-”

“It's fine, Jesse,” Hanzo’s response only infuriated him and he couldn't help but snap in reply.

“It's not fine! It's not fine and it never will be. Don't… don't waste your time on me, sugar please. I'm not… I'm not worth it,” he held back the tears well enough, although the sting still burned his eyes. It would be so easy to just let them go, to give in and give up…

But Hanzo didn't seem to want to let him.

They both fell silent, Hanzo’s hand still settled firmly on his shoulder. He clung to the feeling like it was a rock, grounding him to reality and to common sense. He shivered under the touch when Hanzo’s thumb started rubbing comforting circles into his flesh, burying his head into the palms of his hands.

When he felt Hanzo’s hand slide off of him Jesse startled, nearly jumping out of the bed to grab it. The man’s inquiring glance bore into his own and Jesse barely managed to gather the strength in his voice to breathe out a soft, pleading “please stay.”

Hanzo tugged his palm away and Jesse relented. His hand fell back down limply onto the bed and he opted to stare at it instead of at Hanzo, afraid to see whatever expression the man was giving him.

“I am only getting water. I have no intentions of leaving you,” Hanzo murmured carefully in response. He still refused to look up, waiting for the man to finally take his leave. He did, and Jesse fell apart.

True to his word, Hanzo returned. But Jesse was already sleeping once more, and he didn't notice when the Okami gently lay down on the floor next to him, the rest of the night spent in silent comfort.

 

* * *

 

He found Hanzo outside by the river the next morning, although he wasn't meditating as he usually was. There was something different about him, a telltale stress that was outlined in his royal features and posture. He was tense… Jesse wondered if it was because of him.

He was content to watch the Okami bask in the sunlight, watching him under the shade of the nearby trees. A strong sweet aroma filled the air around him, the same smell that Hanzo carried but stronger, more prominent.

He was redirected from his daydreams when Hanzo caught his gaze, offering the man an idle smile. Hanzo gave none in return, and even more worry gnawed its way into his head. Curiosity and anxiety eventually got the better of him, and he pushed himself out of his leaning position to make his way down to join Hanzo on the bank.

Hanzo calmly watched him the entire way down, rewarding Jesse’s journey with only a slight nod of greeting. Then he was ignored once more, Hanzo’s gaze cast elsewhere. He debated sitting down next to the Okami, and eventually gave in to his need to rest and did so despite possible consequences.

Hanzo’s silence unnerved him more than anything else the Okami could have done. He continued sipping his strange sweet-smelling drink and actively ignored Jesse’s presence until the man was seated next to him. It's like he felt the heat of his stare, for Hanzo soon turned to lock eyes with the man; then and only then did he smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

He expected the question, although he had been hoping that it wouldn't come. It made it even worse when Hanzo was acting so strange before asking, acting as if everything was alright even though it wasn't. He couldn't help but get defensive, quickly looking away and shrugging at the inquiry.

“Why?” He demanded, making a point of avoiding Hanzo’s gaze. He couldn't sense that the man felt guilty or bad about anything… he furrowed his brow in response and glared at the river as if it had caused all these problems.

“The full moon is going to be upon us soon. I wanted to make sure you were feeling alright,” Hanzo murmured in response, and suddenly his gaze felt like it was boring holes into Jesse’s body. Guilt burned inside of him, and now he avoided the Okami’s gaze for an entirely different reason.

“Oh… y-yeah I'm doing fine,” so caught up in trying not to die, he hadn't even realized that the full moon would come soon. It was hardly the first priority he had these days, finding himself more preoccupied with survival. Full moons came and went these days, and although they were far from comfortable he could live through them.

Hanzo gave a thoughtful hum in response, and he felt the man’s gaze trail away from him once more. “Would you like some?” Hanzo motioned towards his drink, and the kettle and cup that were placed neatly upon a cloth on the ground. The smell was enticing, even more so when it smelled so much like Hanzo himself.

He relented and accepted the cup being handed his way, gingerly cupping it so as not to burn his hand. “What is it?” he asked, tipping the cup just slightly to gaze upon the green mixture. This close he could pick up the scent of flowers and leaves, as well as something else he didn't know. He liked to pretend it was magic, musing over the idea fondly.

“Tea… sort of. A soothing potion, mostly,” Hanzo responded, taking a short sip of his drink. Jesse mirrored his actions, surprised when the first drop hit his tongue and coated it with a strange yet oddly delectable taste. This was definetaly not normal tea. He'd never tasted potions before, although Ana was potent with alchemy. He preferred injecting strange substances rather than chancing the taste.

He was glad he chanced this one, for not only was it delicious but he felt a large part of last night’s stress slide off of him in waves. He shed it like a second skin, revelling in it’s magical powers.

It made him wonder about the levels of Hanzo’s own stress, however. His cup was nearly half empty, and yet he was still tense. For a second Jesse debated touching Hanzo, just as he had for the gunslinger, but then thought against it. He didn't know how Hanzo would respond to touch… especially given that he was such a sacred creature and he was nothing but a wild beast in comparison.

“Why do you drink it? Potions aren't something to come by easily. You must travel far to get it, or you're also hiding your secret alchemical abilities,” Jesse mused, glad to see Hanzo’s lips quirk up into a smile.

“No, I do not dab in alchemy. I have a seller who I visit frequently,” Hanzo replied, taking another sip of the drink and closing his eyes. Jesse watched patiently and attentively, observing the Okami as he tilted his face up towards the sun, watching the rays reflect on his lashes, on his cheeks, on his hair…

He quickly looked away when Hanzo’s sharp eyes snapped open and locked onto his. He politely decided not to tease Jesse about it, instead responding to his other inquiry.

“I buy them because despite not being bound by civil laws and culture due to my isolation, I still do not like taking that form during a time that makes me lose all control,” Hanzo murmured. He understood it completely, nodding and taking a sip of the drink once more. He wondered if that was why Hanzo was so stressed and anxious. He knew his own transformations were painful in both a physical and mental sense, but he also knew that people had to deal with varying levels of discomfort.

And that was only talking about werewolves. He didn't know what happened to an Okami when he transformed. Maybe he exploded for all Jesse knew, went out in a blazing death like a Phoenix.

He caught Hanzo staring at him once he finished imagining a rather funny idea of Hanzo as a baby bird. He quirked his brow in silent inquiry, mouth too occupied with drinking to talk. Hanzo offered him a tired smile that nearly caused him to choke on the potion, then motioned towards the kettle idly.

“I can offer you some of it for the full moon as well, if you so wish,,” Hanzo murmured in reply to his wordless question. He seemed to understand and catch the second inquiry forming on the tip of Jesse’s tongue, for he soon continued to speak and answer precisely the question there. “It seems to greatly help you.”

It was true. The potion had helped him significantly, although he wasn't feeling particularly rowdy yet. He trusted Hanzo, however. If he assumed that Jesse might need it and that it might help… he was more than willing to take that chance. He never knew that there was something in existence that allowed him to suffer less during transforming.

“I’d like that, actually,” Jesse responded once he made up his mind.

Eventually he felt Hanzo’s eyes fall off of his face, settling instead on the river once more. They stayed silent for a few more minutes before Hanzo’s voice rose up softy again, tepid and hesitant.

“Do you wish to talk about last night?” he asked, hushed. Although it was a touchy subject, and at first he thought he'd be far more against it… he found that he didn't mind too much that Hanzo was asking. It was better than demanding Jesse to speak about events he didn't want to.

“I'd prefer not to, if that's alright with you darlin’,” he responded, sensing more than seeing Hanzo nod.

“Of course,” he replied, and they fell into a comfortable silence, opting to listen to the water and trees instead of talking.

 


	4. Chapter 4

His wound was getting better. It had slowly been healing, much more gradually than it would have if the hunters oh so kindly had not decided to use silver bullets. But they had, and he had been an idiot for keeping the small piece of silver wedged into his side for longer than an hour. His immune response was damaged, and although it was not beyond repair it was enough to not be able to heal him as fast as he’d like. With enough time, both he and it would get better… but for now, he was helpless. He couldn’t do anything that took up a lot of his strength and energy and still sat around a majority of his days. He had decided to help with laundry and washing dishes, and occasionally taking over cooking duty for Hanzo. The man left every day to go wherever it was he needed to go, and so it was only reasonable he did it.  
  
The wound would definitely scar over, a fun little addition to the plethora of scars that already littered his body. A tepid sigh escaped his parted lips, and he gingerly placed his clothes back over it, just in time for Hanzo to come in, bringing his magical tea along with him.  
  
He stopped to watch Jesse, who had to force himself not to preen under the attention. He squirmed nevertheless when Hanzo’s lips quirked up into that subtle, knowing smile, finding it unbearable to look at; less because of Hanzo (it looked gorgeous on him) but because he couldn't trust himself not to blush.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Hanzo asked, still hovering outside of the door frame and watching Jesse splayed out on the couch. He became self-conscious and aware of the fact that he looked like a disheveled mess, fresh out of the shower… and basically fresh out of bed as well. What could he say? He was a man who enjoyed taking the time to sleep when it had been kept from him ever since he was a child. This was a golden opportunity to do so.  
  
“Swell, darling. Much better than yesterday, and a whole much better than the day before that… and the one before that one, and the one before that-”  
  
He was cut off by Hanzo’s hand lifting up into the air to stop his purposeful rant, and he offered the Okami a cheeky grin in response. The man chuckled and nodded, finally deciding to walk forward and settle the tea on the coffee table in front of the seat that was quickly becoming his favorite.  
  
“I am glad,” Hanzo started, settling down politely on the other end of the couch. Jesse quickly turned to make space but was stopped by Hanzo’s hand on his leg, urging him to stay how he was. He did, although he now felt far more self-conscious doing so.  
  
“Do you think you are well enough for a walk?” he was asked, and lifted his head up curiously, tea and Hanzo mostly forgotten. Mostly.  
  
"I reckon I could be convinced to take one," McCree replied, taking a sip of the drink that had been carefully placed next to him. He let his anxieties slide off of him, letting out a soft sigh at the sensation.  
  
Hanzo watched him for a while longer, and Jesse had to stop the involuntary whine that almost left his throat when he removed his palm from his leg. "Perfect. Then let me convince you."  
  
"Consider me convinced already."  
  
 

* * *

  
  
The woods were pleasant, the white noise of nature embracing his mind lightly. That and the soothing presence of Hanzo rendered him nearly as relaxed as during the after-effects of the tea, although he felt far less numb. It meant he still felt like jumping every time something in the woods sounded out of place, but not so much that he nearly killed himself over it. His mind wasn't on his troubles right now. It was on Hanzo, and on the trees that surrounded them.  
  
They were taking a path he did not recognize. He hadn't ventured out here alone, although that wasn't exactly saying much given that he hadn't gone farther than the the river. And they definitely weren't going there now. He trusted Hanzo enough not to ask questions.  
  
To a point.  
  
That point was when they had been silently wandering without any view of their destination for what he was sure amounted to ten minutes. He didn't even know what to be looking out for in the first place, and Hanzo hadn't been keen on speaking this entire time to let him know. He itched to speak, and he waited a few more seconds to make sure before finally giving in to his needs.  
  
"Han?" the Okami lifted his head up with a questioning hum, and to make sure he was calm Jesse offered him a small, albeit uncertain and curious, smile. "See, I totally trust you and your judgment... but I'm fairly sure we've been walking for at least ten minutes now... in complete silence nonetheless. I'm starting to get a bit nervous."  
  
Hanzo's eyes widened slightly, a brief flicker of surprise going through his gaze. He must not have noticed, given that reaction, and Jesse's suspicions were soon proven right when Hanzo started to speak in a hushed tone, disbelief and self-chastisement lacing his words.  
  
"Ah... have we? I am sorry, I got... caught up in my thoughts," the man murmured, and although Jesse gave him a reassuring smile he didn't see it, turned away from him. It didn't stop Jesse, of course, and he continued smiling gently at the man's back.    
  
"It's all good, sugar. Just wanted to make sure you weren't all quiet and broody because you were planning to kill me or something."  
  
He didn't expect the laugh and the fact that he didn't sent a thrill down his spine. He couldn't help but pause, leaning against a tree for support, and watch Hanzo who had now paused as well to grin back at him coyly. It was confirmed, if he even had doubts at this point; if the shudder his heart did in his chest was any indication, Hanzo Shimada could kill a man with just a smile. He gazed upon the creature's face, taking in the features like a man starved of them, only to look away when Hanzo's eyes became too intense of a force for him to handle.  
  
"No, that's not the plan," he responded, and Jesse nodded slightly in response. He didn't leave it at that, however. He still wanted to know where he was going at this point.  
  
"Is it too much to ask what the plan is, then?" His eyes traveled back towards Hanzo once he felt he could control himself enough. He was still caught off guard when he found the man was still gazing at him, unsure of what the emotions currently in his eyes represented.  
  
Hanzo gave him a thoughtful hum in response at first, before finally being concrete. "Depends. How much do you like surprises?"  
  
Surprises? He quirked a brow, silently questioning Hanzo who only continued to grin at him. The cheeky devil was playing with him. He was enjoying every second of it.  
  
"Depends on the nature of the surprise.”  
  
"And if it is a pleasant one?” Hanzo didn't skip a beat upon responding, almost as if he anticipated what Jesse was going to say. It caught him off guard for a second, although he still managed to come around and answer in a somewhat timely fashion.  
  
“Then you have my full undisclosed permission to drag me along even for days without telling me what it is."  
  
 Hanzo hummed yet again, finally turning around to walk once more. "I doubt we'll be walking for that long. If it's any consolation we're almost there."

* * *

  
  
Hanzo was true to his word. The journey to their destination lasted less than two minutes from there on out, although at first Jesse wasn't aware of it. The Okami had brought him to what looked simply like a cave - nothing special, nothing new. He saw hundreds of caves in his lifetime. He was often forced to take shelter in a multitude.  
  
It turned out, to Jesse's surprise, that this wasn't any simple cave. The moment they entered the maw, subtle lights that had no known source illuminated the tunnel, dotting the darkness like stars. Hanzo walked surely through the area, and Jesse was self conscious about the fact that he was blundering like a fool after him, hands reached out in order to not crash into a wall and give himself a concussion. There was a charged silence between them that he didn't dare to break, afraid that if he did the entire tunnel would collapse, or Hanzo would turn on him and he'd end up dead. It was a dangerous silence. Jesse preferred to keep it.  
  
They reached the end of the tunnel... eventually. He had lost his sense of time at this point. It could have been a minute, could have been five. All he knew was that the wait had been worth it. The moment they reached the clearing, Jesse was awestruck. Overhead was a canopy, a hole in the cave system that draped the foliage inside. Right below it was a series of glistening pools, the surface shimmering unnaturally with a strange smoke settled on top. Even from here he could feel it's cool temperature, and all he wanted to do was to go take a swim in them (although he noted, they looked to be too shallow for it, just barely reaching up to his thighs.)  
  
His attention was so caught up in watching the water that he didn't notice Hanzo had removed his top. Until it was too late, of course. When his gaze slowly dragged off of the liquid pools, it instantly caught on the man's form... and all attempts of keeping his cool and not blushing like a schoolgirl were thrown out the door. He was fairly sure his entire body was red at the burning heat pooling in his face, and he quickly looked away to retain at least some of his dignity.  
  
It took him a good deal of throat clearing to regain his voice, and he used it to question Hanzo's intentions. “Ah… uh, darlin’... not that I'm opposed to it or anything but, um, why'd you take your top off?" Jesse stammered out, sparing a brief glance up at Hanzo who was now looking at him curiously. That instantly caused him to return his eyes to the wall he had been staring out, and he blatantly ignored how his body responded when he heard Hanzo's rumbling chuckle.  
  
"Are you afraid?" Answering questions with questions should have been banned. Jesse wanted answers, not to be forced into even more compromising situations.  
  
“A-afraid?" He mentally cursed at his stammer. "Of what?”  
  
“Water.”  
  
Jesse cleared his throat yet again, voice growing hoarse. Shit, he needed water to throw on his damn face and drown himself in at this point. He refrained from saying that, however, and instead shook his head and mumbled "No, not at all," in response.  
  
He was convinced that Hanzo was having a blast at this point. He swore he could feel his grin from a mile away. "Well then, come here," the Okami damn purred out... he was lying when he said he wasn't planning on killing Jesse. He was about to have a heart attack here, and Hanzo wasn't giving him any mercy.  
  
He did what he was told, although he was nervous as all hell as he skirted around Hanzo, careful to not touch any of his exposed skin. That doesn't mean he doesn't notice it. It's the only thing he can do, watching the muscles ripple underneath the taught skin... He was damn near ready to explode at this teasing and almost choked on his own spit when Hanzo's eyes suddenly met his. His eyes fall back down to the Okami's body, although it doesn't help him to cool off much. But avoiding it is impossible at this point, and he feels far more comfortable admiring his body rather than meeting his gaze. As his eyes trail across Hanzo's skin, he notices all of the details... namely the scars that litter his body, and he can't help but get curious.  
  
He doesn't say anything at first, sitting down on the edge of the pool as Hanzo commands. He flinches away when Hanzo lightly touches the cloth that keeps his wounds hidden, and the man gives him a curious, concerned look.  
  
"I-it's fine, I'll take it off," he damn near wheezes out, unable to sound coherent if he tried. When Hanzo nods, Jesse opens the Yukata, letting it fall over his shoulders and exposing his abdomen. He shuddered when Hanzo lightly brushed the area with calloused yet gentle fingers. Although he had done it multiple times already when taking care of him... it feels far more personal and intimate when... well, Hanzo had a fucking shirt on.  
  
“Are you alright?” He wasn't sure if it was a sarcastic question and if Hanzo was making fun of him, so he lifts his eyes up from Hanzo's hands over his skin to instead look at his own warm gaze. There was nothing but concern on his features, and Jesse couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief. He had cooled down significantly, and the absence of the intense heat that the Okami's eyes had mere seconds ago was soothing.  
  
 “Y-yeah," he still sounds shaken, but at least his voice is more confident now. He glances around the room, then at the water that Hanzo was now cupping in his palm. "But… what is this?” he can't help but ask, getting nervous when the Okami brings the liquid forward, some of it splashing down onto his own pants and dripping down his arms and oh god Jesse needed to stop his thoughts now before he imploded. He quickly looked away from the wet skin to instead look at Hanzo's eyes again. He wasn't sure if he regretted it or not, for the sly look was back in his features yet again. Hanzo was enjoying his suffering, it seemed. A damn animal this one was.  
  
Hanzo chuckled, visibly noticing Jesse's conflict of emotion. "Magic," was his amused response, and then he gently massaged the liquid onto his still-sore wound.  
  
It was a pleasant sensation, cool and soothing. It felt similar to whatever poultice the man had used with the bandages, although amplified and... overall better. He couldn't focus on it for longer than the first few seconds, his mind soon occupying itself with watching Hanzo work, kneeling before him. What he wouldn't give to see that every day. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and although he attempts to hide it as best he can, Hanzo still pauses briefly. It lasts only a second before he's back to work, however, and Jesse allows his eyes to explore yet again. They trail across the pale skin, stopping at each scar and blemish. He finds it strange that Hanzo has them, not expecting it. He himself has more than he cared to admit... but Hanzo seemed far too strong for something like that. Jesse was a werewolf, a mercenary, a kid forced to survive. Hanzo... was Hanzo. He was gorgeous, powerful, borderline holy. He didn't think scars could find their way onto a body such as his.  
  
He'd remember them all anyway.  
  
"You're staring," Hanzo murmurs calmly, not breaking his methodical work. Jesse flushes under both the attention and the call out, quickly averting his gaze to give Hanzo some privacy.  
  
"Sorry," Jesse murmurs running a hand through his hair, surprised to find that the sensation in his abdomen was numbed to the point that such a movement didn't cause him pain. "I..." he doesn't know how to continue, fumbling for words. "It's just that I didn't expect you to have... scars."  
  
Hanzo stops working, wiping his hands on his clothes. His eyes meet Jesse's, and by some magical powers, he can't look away as he gives him one simple question.  
  
"Why?"  
  
He chokes up, unable to come up with an answer that sounds convincing enough, good enough. He watches Hanzo, unsure of whether or not the man was offended. To try and soothe any possible blows, he motions to Hanzo's body and starts his explanation.  
  
“You seem… far too strong for them.”  
  
He doesn't expect Hanzo to suddenly lean forward, almost laying across Jesse's lap. He presses his fingers lightly against a scar on his chest, one of the more severe ones, and when he turns to look at Hanzo he finds that his eyes are locked onto his own with an intensity that makes his throat go dry.  
  
"And these?" Hanzo whispers causing Jesse to shiver involuntarily underneath his touch. "Do these not show your strength?"  
  
He chuckles sheepishly at the idea, finally able to rip his gaze away. "I'd say they represent quite the opposite," Jesse murmurs in reply, his voice growing grim and melancholy. He feels Hanzo's hand trail off of his skin, focusing on the tingling sensation it left behind in its wake.  
  
"Jesse," Hanzo sounded serious, drawing upon Jesse's attention once more. Once he was confident the werewolf was listening, he started to speak once more. "Scars aren't a sign of weakness. They show that you were strong enough to survive whatever life threw at you."  
  
He can't help but feel skeptical of the words, feeling them bounce off his skin. He can't make himself believe them, at least not in regards to himself. It would explain a lot in Hanzo's case, perhaps, but his... his scars didn't feel like anything but mishaps and blemishes that showed all of his mistakes. He still smiled, he still pretended he believed and murmurs a soft "I reckon so," back. He was sure that Hanzo didn't believe him, but neither approached the subject after that.  
  
Hanzo nodded slowly, before leaning back on his knees and looking up at Jesse curiously. "How are you feeling? With the wound, I mean," Hanzo inquired, bringing Jesse's attention back towards it.  
  
"It's feeling... pretty good, actually. What is this magical water bullshit again?"  
  
"Water that can heal most, if not all, wounds. It helps... reduce scarring," Hanzo responded, motioning towards Jesse's abdomen. "Without it, your injury would most likely leave a rather severe one."  
  
Jesse glanced down at the wound yet again, watching it with interest. He swore it had closed up even more since the last few minutes, and he looked up at Hanzo in surprise.  
  
"So... is this what you've been using on me before, or is it something special?"  
  
He didn't expect Hanzo to become so flustered at the question, and yet there he sat, looking like he was having trouble finding the correct words. He cleared his throat and shrugged, before responding to Jesse's question with the slightest hint of guilt in his tone.  
  
"I... may have been selfish."  
  
 Jesse quirked a brow at Hanzo at the response, before grinning wryly. "Wanted to keep me all to yourself, eh? Kept the magical healing water from me so I'd suffer longer and stay with you," he joked... only to find that Hanzo became even more flustered at the accusation, to the point that a light flush formed on his face and shoulders. He avoided Jesse's eyes like the plague, piquing curiosity in him.    
  
"No. That is not it," he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than Jesse; he couldn't help but chuckle.  
  
"Whatever you say, darling."  
  
He blinks when Hanzo suddenly lifts himself up, quickly sitting himself down next to Jesse. He swings his legs around, and he watches with surprise when he takes off what Hanzo could have sworn were just some fancy shoes.  
  
They weren't. As Hanzo discarded them, he revealed that there was nothing underneath them but empty space. They weren't shoes but prosthetics; Hanzo caught him staring, quirking a brow in his direction.  
  
"Have something to say, wolf?"  
  
"N-no... just..." he found he had lost his voice yet again, and instead of trying to say anything Jesse decided to remain silent. He politely looked away when Hanzo started to massage some of the liquid onto the ends of his severed legs, opting to instead listen to the splash of water.  
  
A few seconds of silence pass by between them, and eventually Jesse can't help but as the question that was engraved into his mind the moment that he had arrived there.  
  
“Why did you bring me here?” He moved his gaze back towards Hanzo, who only looked up briefly before returning to working on his legs.  
  
“It’s a special place for me," he started in a soft murmur, continuing after a drawn-out sigh. "The water isn’t much more magical than anything else I've been using thus far. It would have had the same effect as your current healing process, but I wanted to show you this place anyways. If you ever need anywhere to go, or such. Or if I’m not around and you’re in need of dire medical help.”  
  
He watched Hanzo for a bit longer, and once the man started to reattach his legs Jesse mindlessly swung around to help. He received a curious look from Jesse, who simply smiled in return and motioned towards the prosthetic legs. "Here, let me help."  
  
It is much easier to attach an appendage that does not belong to himself, especially now that he had both of his hands back. He is hyper-aware of Hanzo's gaze on him as he works, trying to ignore the way his skin crawled at the sensation. It was pleasant but infuriatingly distracting from his goal. He fumbles briefly with the legs as a result, but once he got used to it the process became infinitely easier.  
  
"Thank you, Jesse," Hanzo murmured out, and Jesse returned his appreciation with a smile.  
  
“It’s the least I can do.”  
  
He helped Hanzo up, offering his elbow as a crutch. The Okami gracefully accepted the offer, lifting himself off of the ledge of the pool and pulling his yukata back on, closing it over his bare chest. Jesse can't help but stare for a while longer until Hanzo's voice breaks through the haze in his mind.  
  
"It's getting cloudy outside, we should get going."  
  
All he manages to give in return was an affirming hum, and they quickly take their leave soon after.

* * *

  
  
Once they reach Hanzo's hut (he was compelled to call it home, but those were dangerous thoughts to dwell on), Jesse got ready to leave Hanzo to go to his room. He was stopped by the Okami, however, his hand clinging onto the sleeve of his shirt. Jesse cast a curious glance down at the man, who was staring at his own hand like it had betrayed him.  
  
"Han-?"  
  
"Stay with me," the words were hushed, uncertain. Surprise flickered inside of Jesse's mind, although he wasn't opposed to the idea whatsoever. He simply hadn't expected it from Hanzo, who likewise seemed to not have expected it of himself either. There was a visible conflict inside of the Okami, but once Jesse gave him a reassuring smile and motioned towards the couch, he visibly relaxed.  
  
"I'm going to go make more tea," he murmured out, walking away and leaving Jesse to sit by himself and wait. So wait he did, starting a fire in the fireplace and watching the flames climb up, focusing on the heat. It was nothing compared to Hanzo's, but it was enough to keep him warm.  
  
It didn't take long for Hanzo to return, silent as he approached. Jesse moved to give the man some space to join him on the couch, only to be stopped by Hanzo who promptly leaned against him, back pressed to his shoulder. It felt so natural... too natural, for Hanzo to be there. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to pleasant thoughts and ideas of living like this for the rest of his life. They were dangerous thoughts and once Jesse could, he took the chance to rip himself away from his daydreams.  
  
"How did you lose your legs?"  
  
Silence encompasses them, far thicker than it had been before. He spares a glance at Hanzo, fearing he had delved into unspoken territory the longer the man refused to respond. He opened his mouth to speak, an apology ready on his tongue, but stops as Hanzo starts to talk.  
  
"It was a long time ago," there was something melancholy to his voice, it tugged at his heartstrings more than anything to hear it coming from Hanzo. "I was foolish... selfish. I prefer not to go into detail, but long story short I had done something both unthinkable and unforgivable. It had cost me my legs, but they were the least important thing I lost that day."  
  
Jesse listened attentively, blinking as he watched Hanzo's face distort and fall, nostalgia and sadness muddling into one inside of his eyes, trained and focused on the flames like they held the answers to his life. A sad laugh escaped Hanzo and he moved his gaze up to look at Jesse, searching for something. He wasn't sure what, turning nervous as he tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Whatever Hanzo was looking for, he didn't find and found it safe to tell Jesse what he wanted to say.  
  
"I lost my humanity that day," he murmured in a hushed voice, fragile beyond what Jesse had seen so far from him. This was new, dangerous. He didn't know what to do as he looked upon Hanzo's broken face. He'd try his best to comfort him, anyways, even though the universe itself knew it was far from his strength.  
  
“You must have gotten it back somewhere along the way, then. That or you didn’t lose as much of it as you thought," he offered. Hanzo didn't fight him, although the look in his eyes was unmistakenly disbelief. He looked away, face turned to the flames once more.  
  
"Perhaps," he murmured in response.  
  
The silence was broken by the water, startling both men out of their thoughts. Jesse watched as Hanzo got up and walked away, and once he was gone his gaze wandered to the fire. He was left alone with his own thoughts, now plagued by ideas of humanity and sin. A sad chuckle escaped him, and suddenly he wished he still had one of his cigarettes. He didn't want to smoke inside, nor did he feel like moving from the couch to go out. He could only sit and suffer, closing his eyes even as it caused the visions of the past to become clearer.  
  
He hadn't always been what he was now. His own humanity had been ripped out of his hands when he was young when he was but a normal child in a normal family. He had led a happy life, albeit a bit stressful at times, but it seemed it had never meant to be. He had been turned, his family killed, and eventually, he had joined the only group who had been willing to let him in. They were the only ones who could accept the feral child who couldn't control his transformations, his hatred, his anger, his instinct... they had turned him into a killer. Or maybe he always had been? Maybe all they did was hone his skills. The ability had always been in him.  
  
Only a murderer could kill his first victim at the ripe age of thirteen.  
  
He hadn't noticed he was starting to scratch at his arms until Hanzo was suddenly by his side again, a hand pressing gently onto his own to stop him. He ripped himself out of his thoughts, trying to calm his erratic breathing. Hanzo offered him the tea, which he took eagerly and reveled in its soothing powers as they soon overtook him, blocking out his thoughts and anxieties.  
  
Hanzo sat back down next to him, and this time Jesse didn't think twice about letting the man lean on him. They didn't speak, and he didn't try to pry more into what had happened in the Okami's life. He let the silence speak for them, although it was heavy and uncomfortable. He could tell Hanzo was reliving whatever memories he had, the look in his eyes distant and his grip on the mug tight enough to make his knuckles go white.  
  
He didn't want to leave Hanzo alone to deal with his thoughts. The man had helped him so many times that he felt guilty to simply sit and do nothing. Without hesitation, Jesse placed his drink back on the table, twisting around so that he was facing Hanzo's back more directly. The man cast him a curious look, which Jesse offered back a reassuring smile in response.  
  
"Just relax, Han," he murmured out and watched Hanzo turn around and nod. He felt his chest tighten at the realization that, much like he did Hanzo, the Okami trusted him. If that wasn't the best feeling in the world... he didn't know what could possibly beat it. After clearing his throat Jesse started to hum a soft song, placing his hands on Hanzo's back and shoulders. The muscles underneath his palms were strained and tense, and he gently started to massage them. He chuckled when Hanzo instantly relaxed, but froze when the man leaned back further against Jesse, his eyes closed and body pliant underneath his touch.  
  
 “You holding up alright, sugar?” Jesse murmured softly, resuming his actions once his surprised largely passed.  
  
 “The full moon gets me anxious," Hanzo murmured, taking another long sip of his tea. Jesse stared at the Okami for a long time, before sighing and nodding, turning his attention to the fire instead.  
  
 “That makes two of us.”


	5. Chapter 5

The better that he got, the more he dreaded the fact that he had to leave. Or rather, the idea that he needed to leave was tantalizingly close to becoming reality. He had dreaded the fact from the get-go, but it had still seemed so distant compared to everything. Now? Now it was a constant presence in his mind reminding him that now that he could walk and work properly, he had to go.   
  
The problem was leaving. The problem was Hanzo. It had only been around two weeks, but it had been long enough for Jesse to have grown attached; if not fully, then enough to feel like a part of himself wouldn't exist once he left Hanzo’s side. It was an unrequited feeling, with no doubt, but he couldn't help but know that Hanzo had changed his life. The feelings were positive… but Jesse knew that in the long run, Hanzo had only changed his life for the worst. He didn't need memories, didn't need vague feelings of attraction and trust towards those who would either leave him or vice versa. He had to leave, and now Hanzo would be yet another unwanted scar on his mind.   
  
He was so far gone, at the point that he was debating staying, making up some bullshit reasoning that had even an inkling of sense - or not at all. It was a constant battle between his heart and his head. Logic told him to run, but his emotions had a tight grip on his heart.  
  
They were what had caused him to pick up on all of the subtle actions that represented Hanzo’s moods merely a week into his stay. They were what caused him to notice how his eyes and body seemed to droop and how his voice turned an octave lower when he was tired; how his entire body seemed to light up, how his eyes shined with a warm fire when he was happy; how most nights he couldn't sleep, how he wandered the halls when he thought Jesse was asleep. How he shied away from certain topics, and the relieved sag of his shoulders when Jesse never pushed him to talk about them.  
  
But worst of all was how they caused him to pay attention to Hanzo’s laughs; his smiles. How they infected his entire being and made it impossible to even imagine forgetting him. Hanzo would stay with him no matter what he tried to do, for however long he lived, for he had truly known he had fallen for Hanzo when he first laughed. At first, it was nothing but a puppy crush, a stupid need for affection that he gladly took from anyone that would give it to him. Anyone starved of it for years would have the same reaction. But it was the affection, the steady patience that the Okami had with him that had turned Jesse into putty, had twisted his emotions in ways he didn’t need.  
  
It had been his smile, his laughter. How he gazed warmly up at Jesse whenever they talked, how he smiled when trying to comfort him. How he smiled when happy, or when Jesse attempted to make a stupid joke that he was half sure Hanzo only laughed at out of pity. It was that, and it was everything else. It was Hanzo.   
  
And he was smiling like that now, albeit at the expense of Jesse’s ego.  
  
“Jesse!” he was worried, although there was no mistaking the laughter lacing his tone. Once he managed to open his eyes up, grunting at the dull ache in his side, he could see Hanzo pressing a hand to the barely visible yet obviously slightly upturned lips.  
  
“Jesse, are you alright?” Jesse could tell that he was having a hard time keeping the laughter in, but he couldn’t be angry if he tried. He gave it his best anyway, huffing as he tried to stand up. He didn’t have to struggle alone for much longer, Hanzo suddenly standing above him and offering his hand to him. His ego already gone, Jesse gladly accepted it with a small chuckle.  
  
He didn’t remember the last time he had tried fishing, but it was obvious that it was a long time because he had fallen on his ass the moment that he caught something as it fought valiantly to escape. It succeeded and left a rather emotionally hurt werewolf in its wake. Rabbits were far easier to catch, and now dinner was gone along with whatever shreds of self-worth he had left in him.  
  
“Yeah yeah, Shimada,” Jesse pulled himself up with Hanzo’s help, brushing away the dirt from his clothes before casting a knowing grin in the Okami's direction. “If you want to laugh then do, don’t try to hide it.”  
  
“I do not.”  
  
It was astonishing how fast Hanzo could change his expression, dropping his hand to reveal a stoic and emotionless mask staring back at Jesse. There was still laughter and mirth in his gaze, but Jesse didn’t comment much on it other than quirking a brow.  
  
Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but murmur a light “sure, Han, sure,” as Hanzo turned around to sit back down at his fishing rod. The chuckle Hanzo gave him caused his heart to flutter, but he ignored it just as much as he ignored his own fishing rod once he sat down next to Hanzo, staring at the man’s hands instead.    
  
The seconds ticked by in pleasant silence but eventually, Hanzo spoke up and Jesse’s gaze flickered up to his eyes, which were curiously staring at him.   
  
“Why do you call me that?” He didn’t sound accusatory, simply curious in the most innocent sense of the word.   
  
“Call you what, sugar?”  
  
“That,” Hanzo responded, waving a hand in his direction before explaining. “Nicknames like those.”  
  
Jesse gazed curiously at Hanzo, unsure of whether or not he was doing something wrong by calling him anything other than his name. He decided to take the safe route, clearing his throat and starting. “Do you not like them? I can stop if you want-”  
  
“No!” He said it too quickly, startling Jesse to the point that his body jumped back on reflex. He had the mind to look flustered, although he wasn’t sure why Hanzo had suddenly turned a (rather lovely) shade of pink and had looked away from Jesse to instead focus intently on the river. “No,” he repeated, quieter and more hesitant. “I like it, I was just curious.”  
  
He studied Hanzo a while longer, flattered at the honesty and openness that the man regarded him with. Something tugged at his heartstrings at the thought, although he decided to safely not pay it much attention. His gaze dropped from the Okami eventually, trailing back unwillingly towards the river, and he decided to give the man his answer.  
  
“I’m not sure why, really. They just seem to fit you… Han…. Haney, sugar, darling, sweet pea,” he chuckled at the list, looking back up to see what Hanzo’s expression was like, and his heart nearly stopped at the flustered expression present on his features. He looked like he was enjoying himself, proven more by the fact that he hadn’t stopped Jesse thus far, but his throat had gone too dry to try and come up with any more, and even if it hadn’t his mind had all but stuttered to a halt the second he had laid his eyes on that face. Although he’d love to imagine that it was because Hanzo held some sort of affectionate feelings towards him, Jesse knew that it couldn’t be true. It was most likely how he had been at first: Hanzo had lived alone for so long that anyone calling him such things would make him flustered.  
  
He couldn’t afford to hope. For both their sakes. He hated crushing his own dreams, but it had kept him alive for this long and he’d willingly stay on that path for longer.  
  
Jesse smiled anyways. He lied to himself eagerly even as he knew he shouldn’t, pretending even for a second that the blush was for him. He had to push down the hunger in his eyes as he took it in, although he noted that it was a much different hunger than what he was used to. It wasn’t sexual, nor the hunger he felt when he transformed. It was strange, new… the craving for attention, for affection… for him.  
  
He had almost forgotten everything else still existed until Hanzo suddenly spoke again. The world came crashing back down, but with the words he was hit with… it was like everything finally had color.   
  
“I can’t seem to find a good nickname for ‘Jesse.’” His words are hushed, hesitant, and it damn near caused his heart to stop in his chest. He choked up, ending up coughing unflatteringly into his arm much to Hanzo’s obvious amusement.   
  
Eventually, his coughing fit calmed down, and he was able to get his bearings enough to offer a half-assed yet still stunned reply. “J-Jesse will do just fine, sugar,” he cursed his stutter mentally, clearing his throat before continuing and trying desperately to ignore Hanzo’s searing gaze glued to his face. “It’s more than anyone calls me anyway,” he’s almost glad when Hanzo does nothing but smile in response and turn his head away, allowing Jesse some time to attempt to furiously rub away his blush.  
  
It didn’t help much when Hanzo soon spoke once more, cooing a soft and amused “is it now?” that had him wheezing for breath yet again.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Jesse stuttered out, silently damning Hanzo as he did so. He had a sneaking suspicion that the man was doing this on purpose, and he shot the man a glare only to feel guilty for doing it and drop it almost instantly before he saw.   
  
“Usually… well, usually everyone who doesn't know me well calls me McCree,” he murmured to get his mind off of the guilt, rubbing his neck awkwardly as his expression dropped significantly along with his mood. “For those after my head, I might as well have no name at all.”   
  
“They don't deserve it anyway,” the anger in Hanzo’s voice caught Jesse off guard and forced his head up to gaze curiously at the Okami, whose expression turned out to be equally as dark. Although the glare was turned in his direction, Jesse knew that it wasn't directed at him but rather at the invisible enemies surrounding him.   
  
He knew it wasn't Hanzo’s intention, but it did nothing but make him sadder. A bitter smile plastered itself onto his lips at the statement, eyes trailing away from the Okami yet again. “I don't know,” his voice was hushed, fragile. For a second he wished he had a cigarette to light, but all of them were back in the hut and he didn't care much for standing up. “At least then they'd see me as equal, as… as human.” The word was sour on his tongue, and he recoiled from it like it stung. “I'm nothing to them. Not a name, not a being. Just another oddity that needs to be hunted down.”  
  
“Jesse,” the firmness in Hanzo’s voice caused his eyes to involuntarily shut, reveling in the way his name was said. It was another thing he loved about Hanzo: the way he could take Jesse’s name and transform it into a million different things. Each time he said it was a new canvas being painted in his head. He never loved his name more than when it was dripping off of Hanzo’s tongue, laced with none of the venom he was used to. He was selfish for it, for giving into his desires and thinking far deeper into it then he should have. He was selfish to want to hear it, to hear that determined affection that could make him believe, even for a second, that someone out there cared for him, that someone out there wouldn't leave.   
  
Perhaps he had noticed that Jesse was slipping into thoughts unwanted and uncomfortable. Hanzo’s warm hands were cupped around his face the moment that his breathing had started to become difficult, easing him back into reality and a sense of peace, albeit unstable. He waited until he was sure of Jesse’s attention to speak, and once he does Jesse had to hold back tears.  
  
“You are not nothing, you know that right?”  
  
He didn’t believe him, but the way he said it, the way he said it so firmly and with such deep belief… it made it hard not to for a second.   
  
“R-right,” he mumbled in response, holding back a whine when the Okami leaned back and took his heat with him.   
  
“Good. Now,” the mood turned lighter once more as the man smirked, waving a hand in the direction of the water and urging Jesse’s attention to change its course. “You lost another fish.”  
  
He groaned as he turned his attention to the fishing pole, checking and finding that he had indeed lost his bait with no spoils attached. His thoughts mostly forgotten Jesse eased back into fishing, now lamenting the fact that his dinner wasn’t going to come soon rather than his life losses.   
  


* * *

  
  
He wasn’t sure what Hanzo did or did not suspect. The question had arisen many times during the weeks that Jesse had stayed, whether he knew of his plans to leave… or if it would be a brutal surprise when he did. Hanzo wasn’t an idiot and Jesse definitely didn’t view him as such, but it was hard to tell what the Okami was thinking, or what secrets he kept hidden from the world.   
  
Jesse still knew he couldn’t stay. It would be selfish and stupid of him to think that he could, for the Okami with no doubt had a life outside of taking care of him for days on end… one that he most likely wanted to return to. Right now he was doing nothing but leeching off of his services, his time and personal space. Hanzo never said anything about it… but he viewed it as the Okami simply being polite and not turning down a man who was nearing death merely a few weeks ago.  
  
He wanted to be selfish, to indulge in this feeling and never let it go… but he couldn’t. He had morals that stopped him and the knowledge that if he didn’t then it’d end up in him having more blood on his hands. This peace he had let himself experience couldn't last much longer, and he had been doing nothing but putting both himself and Hanzo in danger. He was going against everything Reyes had taught him, everything he had taught himself.   
  
As a result, he had made up his mind to leave as soon as the full moon was over, to disappear without a trace as if he had never existed. It wouldn't be hard if Jesse didn't have to say his goodbyes. Or at least it shouldn't have been. Perhaps Hanzo would have preferred a proper parting, but Jesse couldn't bring himself to even try imagining one. It would hurt too much, and he just knew that if he could get even one last glance at Hanzo, he wouldn't be able to leave. The worst part was that the full moon was soon to be upon them. He hadn't even had the time to think about his inevitable transformation, too focused on what would happen after the event rather than during it; and even when Jesse did, his transformation seemed so pathetic a problem compared to Hanzo. He had managed to work his way into Jesse’s far too willing heart.  
  
Or rather, he was far too willing to indulge in lies and fantasies in order to try and escape his pathetic reality. And what beautiful stories they'd be, too. A lost wolf on the run from his problems, saved by a creature that might as well have been sent down by the gods. They'd laugh, fight by each other’s side, make sure that nothing would ever take them apart… and in the end, they'd both fall in love.  
  
If only it were more than just a childish fantasy.   
  
Despite being unable to focus on his own anxieties regarding the full moon, Hanzo’s were as clear as day of to Jesse. The man had been getting antsy, leaving more often and coming back increasingly more irked each time. It might have just been his imagination, but Hanzo also seemed to be far more handsy than before, taking every and any excuse to touch Jesse. He wasn't complaining, of course, such subtle attention comforting to him. It was just strange coming from Hanzo.  
  
He had been sitting on the couch reading the latest news on his phone when Hanzo returned in such a state, rigid and worn out as he swept past Jesse like the man didn't exist. Yet still, there was that brief moment of contact, where Hanzo trailed his fingers lightly against Jesse’s back, just barely even a ghost of a touch but enough to send electricity shooting through his core. Other than that, Hanzo opted to vastly ignore Jesse in favor of the tea he was with no doubt about to make. That was another thing that Jesse had noticed. Hanzo had been making and consuming the drink like a madman, inhaling to the point that he was starting to worry about the Okami’s health.   
  
He stopped his internet surfing for a second to watch Hanzo’s retreating back. Once it was gone behind a door, Jesse released a tired sigh, deeming the news largely unimportant save for a few details. He had greater and more pressing matters to attend to - namely the man who had rushed into the kitchen like his life depended on it. He stood up, phone discarded and attention fully focused on Hanzo, sauntering towards the kitchen with his best attempt at looking inconspicuous and relaxed. He didn't know what he expected to see when he entered the room, but the sight of Hanzo busy preparing a potion with a far larger dose than ever before was not it.   
  
“Isn't that a bit much?”  
  
“Shut up,” Hanzo growled out, catching Jesse off guard. He had never sounded this tense and angry before… he didn't know what to say or not say to not get him to explode. But he had to think of something fast, for Hanzo poured even more of the solution into the tea as if to emphasize his words. He was fairly sure it was now at least one-third of the entire drink.   
  
Better judgment told him to leave Hanzo alone, that he knew what he was doing. Common sense and his good heart refused to listen to that idiotic idea.   
  
“Han, darling,” Jesse murmured as he moved forward, coming beside Hanzo to grasp at his wrists and successfully ignoring the glare he received at the action. “You know what you're doing, right? I'm not going to just sit around and watch you overdose on strange potions. Magic isn't something to take lightly.”  
  
Hanzo’s features softened only slightly, but it was still a comfort to Jesse to see him at least think about what he was doing. The Okami’s gaze fell off of him back down at the drink, and he wished that he could do something to rid Hanzo of the stress that was causing his brow to furrow.   
  
A long silence stretched between them, tense and uncertain. Jesse was willing to stay there as long as he had to do nevertheless. The quiet couldn't last forever, and eventually one of them had to break.  
  
It was Hanzo who broke first.   
  
“How many days do we have left?” His question was hushed, sad even. His grip had tightened greatly on his cup, and no amount of comforting circles rubbed into the flesh of his wrists seemed to lessen the pressure. Eventually, Jesse gave up with a tepid sigh, lifting his eyes warily up to Hanzo’s face.  
  
“Two.”  
  
Hanzo went silent once more, refusing to look at Jesse even when he was certain that the man could feel his burning gaze on his flesh. He didn't talk, didn't break the silence fearing that he'd break something else along with it. Eventually, Hanzo took the chance to speak again, voice still hesitant and pained.   
  
“And then you will leave, yes?” It didn't sound hopeful, although it wasn't an accusation either. He just seemed… tired. Just as tired as Jesse was. The question was still surprising no matter the tone.    
  
Jesse couldn’t come up with the right words, stumbling over his own tongue when Hanzo’s glare returned to his face. He didn’t know how to respond. Although he had kept the idea of the Okami knowing in his head… he never expected it to truly be a reality. He didn’t want Hanzo to know, to suspect anything. And yet there he was staring at Jesse and waiting for an answer, and here he was… unable to admit to the truth and yet forced to accept it before he was ready.  
  
He pushed back tears even as they threatened to spill over.  
  
“I… I have to. Yes.”  
  
Hanzo’s eyes sharpened, narrowed, and he felt an icy feeling crawl through his body so opposite to what he was used to ever since he had come here. Apathy… that was the feeling. A cold and brittle apathy that brought his fatigue cascading back down around him.   
  
“Then let me have this,” Hanzo muttered, and Jesse could do nothing but let go of him and move out of his way when he shouldered his way past him, refusing to meet his eyes. Apathy mixed with guilt, and Jesse had to force down the sound building deep in his throat. He couldn’t help what he had to do, and despite his better nature he couldn’t help but feel angry that Hanzo would never understand. He had to leave.  
  
The biggest problem was that he didn’t expect for Hanzo to care this much about it.   
  
  
He didn’t wait long in that desolate room, soon rushing to catch up with Hanzo. He had questions, and the Okami was the only one with answers. And yet when he left the room and nearly fell into him, Hanzo ignored Jesse completely as if the man didn’t even exist. It hurt more than anything else and he paused, suddenly unsure of his intentions and actions once more.  
  
Was it just the full moon causing Hanzo to act so strange? He would have been willing to blame it on the natural phenomena, but he was no idiot no matter how much he feigned it when necessary. There was something going on underneath that, and the moon was only a small portion of the problem. He didn’t think, acting upon impulse when Hanzo didn’t turn his attention towards him in the span of a minute, grabbing Hanzo’s wrist to get him to listen. He regretted the action instantly when the man whirled around as if the hand burned, snarling at Jesse and ripping his hand away violently.   
  
It had been just enough. Jesse wasn’t an idiot, and years on the run taught a man to pick up on things that others didn’t say, things hidden in the eyes. One look at Hanzo, one proper look told him everything. This had very little to do with Hanzo - it was about Jesse.   
  
A sharp pain formed in his chest, breaking through the apathy. His eyes furrowed in worry, in pain and guilt; losing the strength to keep his hand up he let it drop to his side limply. And yet, despite being clear about wanting Jesse to go, Hanzo doesn’t turn around to leave once they are staring at each other, expression unreadable with a death grip on his drink.   
  
Silence. Silence gathers around them, threatening to destroy Jesse from the inside out. The silence was always the worst, the moment of secret where he could never tell what was going to happen. He wanted it to end, but it was constricting his throat and rendered him helpless to its will. The only one who could break this spell was Hanzo, but he too seemed trapped in its grip.   
  
“Why do you want to leave?” his voice is soft, pained… tired. The sharp edge in both his eyes and his voice was gone, replaced by a defeat Jesse could have never imagined in regards to the man.  
  
“It’s-” he fumbled for words, brows furrowing as frustration built up inside him. “It’s not that I want to leave. I just can’t stay. If I do…”   
  
He let out a curse, curling his fingers into fists as a silent, furious snarl forms on his features. It took all of his self-control to stop himself from hitting the wall, breaking something, but it doesn’t stop him from digging his nails into his skin until the pain breaks through even the angry haze in his mind.   
  
“Hanzo,” he doesn’t stop to think, hands flying forward to grasp at the man’s shoulders. He ignored the surprise, the brief flicker of panic that shone in Hanzo’s eyes. When the Okami didn’t push him off, he rendered it safe to continue and did just that. “There are bad men after me, people who would kill both me and you without batting their eyes. We're nothing to them, understand? I can't… shit, I can't let them get you.”  
  
Hanzo’s surprise dissipates instantly, shifting back into anger and frustration in a matter of seconds. He pushed Jesse off, who went willingly and kept his hands firmly at his sides as the Okami seemed to bristle with a dangerous energy. “So you'd die in my place?” he snarls, demanding an answer. His tone, his body… it mirrored the tension and anger he felt, and he couldn’t help but notice the similarities between them at that moment.  
  
“Yes I would, Hanzo,” he didn’t know how many times he’d have to say it to get it through his head, but Jesse was ready to say it a thousand times if he had to. He’d lost too many already. He wasn’t going to let the same thing happen again if he could help it, not because of his selfishness. Not because of him. “I'd willingly take that over having to see yet another individual die in mine,” his voice came out harsher than he expected, and he jumps at the same time that Hanzo does, both men taken aback by the fervor.   
  
Hanzo grew tentative, seemingly with enough common sense to know that he had entered dangerous territory and triggered dangerous memories. He reaches out gingerly to try and take Jesse’s hand, but he rips it away before he can. Hanzo respects it, but he can’t hide the hurt look from Jesse. Jesse can’t bring himself to stop acting this way even though he cares.   
  
“Jesse, I won't die,” Hanzo’s voice is insistent, determined to change his mind. It wasn’t that easy, sadly. Especially now.   
  
“You don't know that. None of us know that,” he mutters in response, staring at the wall right behind Hanzo to avoid eye contact with the Okami.   
  
 “I can protect myself. I can protect you as well, you just have to accept it.”  
  
He was torn, wanting to believe Hanzo, wanting to believe the lies… but he couldn’t. He couldn’t continue to do it, couldn’t keep lying to himself and everyone else. Nobody who ever said they could protect him could protect themselves.   
  
He was a curse walking around in flesh he dared to call human.   
  
He wasn’t going to let someone like Hanzo die too.  
  
“I'm sorry, Hanzo. After the full moon I need to leave. You'll be better off without me,” he was glad for the apathy that enveloped him once again, finally able to meet Hanzo’s desperate gaze with little emotion rising up to answer it. He was tired again, tired of this life. But it was the only life he was given, and the need for survival was one hell of a bitch to shake.   
  
“You don't know anything about me,  Jesse. You don't know how much I'm willing to sacrifice,” Hanzo said, still trying. Still lying. A sad smile formed on Jesse’s face as an answer, and he shook his head slowly in hopes that Hanzo would just… stop.   
  
“No. No, I don't. But I know how much I am.”


	6. Chapter 6

They had been ignoring each other for the next two days, the only communication between them being the occasional gruff greeting or goodbye, a subtle word of where one was going and when they'd be back. Other than it was silent between them, an odd mix of uncertainty and something akin to but not quite anger. In any case, neither of them were willing to voice these things, whatever they were.

The house that had seemed so warm and inviting at first had grown empty and cold, none of that warmth there anymore. It was now a house like any other, and it might as well have been abandoned given the scarcity he saw Hanzo with. Jesse learned something really fast - if he wanted to, Hanzo could make himself damn near invisible. A cryptid in both name and nature.

It only put emphasis on the fact that it had been something truly special that the okami had chosen to come to him. It was a stupid idea, then. Jesse was pissed off at the fact that he had survived long enough to be sheltered by this man. If he hadn't been, all these problems wouldn't have ever arisen.

But they were there and they were very real, and no matter what Jesse tried to do in order to forget them it didn't work.

The longer the time passed, the more Jesse yearned to talk about it, to try and explain himself and go back to how things were. But despite it all, he suspected this was actually for the best. This way he'd have no qualms with leaving and in the end it'd be easier to do so. It was easier to leave a place that did not care for him. He knew that from personal experience.

What he didn't know was why he cared so much , why the idea of Hanzo not caring anymore hurt so much.

He could have just let this play out, and yet he still hoped for… something. He didn't even know what ideas he was putting false hope into, just that they existed somewhere inside of him and that he couldn't shake himself of them. He still wanted the lies. He still needed them.

He was quietly sitting on his phone, trying to not pay attention to the time. But even if he couldn't see it, the passage of time was like second nature to him by now. He had this whole transforming thing nailed down to the second; he knew when it would start, and there was very little he could do to other than mentally prepare himself. It was already night. He had very little time left to enjoy this body before he'd lose all control again.

It took him, however, looking at the clock in order to realize that Hanzo wasn’t back. It was nearing midnight, and yet the Okami… was simply gone. Now that he thought more about it, he didn’t recall Hanzo ever leaving, or telling him where he was going. He hadn’t seen the man since morning, and he couldn’t quite tell when he had lost sight of him either. Worry gnawed at his bones as he continued scrolling, knowing that it wasn’t like Hanzo to be late, or to even leave somewhere without saying. Given that fact and the type of night it was… he couldn’t help but assume the worst.

Jesse tried to stubbornly push those thoughts out of the way, desperately clinging to his device like a lifeline, like a distraction. It didn’t work. He could only stare at the words without associating any meaning to them, and after a few more excruciatingly painful seconds he threw the phone down onto his lap with a frustrated sigh.

He finally gave into the worry. Sure, he didn’t know what the hell was going on between them right now, but it would still lay sourly on his conscience if something happened to Hanzo and he hadn’t even bothered to try and find out what. That he didn’t even bother to try and help. Hanzo being hurt was the last thing he wanted. For fucks sakes - it was the very reason he was even leaving in the first place.

He had ten more minutes before his transformation. His leg went haywire, bobbing up and down frantically as he tried to soothe his racing mind. Ten more minutes.

He hoped he could find Hanzo in time.

With a frustrated growl that was more guttural than human, he left the warm building and shivered under the cold wind. The night was silent, setting him on edge. It wasn’t the silence of the night, white noise virtually non-existent. It was all swallowed up, leaving nothing else but the shadows.

“Hanzo?” he tries his luck, hoping that the man was within hearing reach and would return to him at the call. He knew he was pushing it, however. No such response comes. He stood outside the hut a bit longer, hands shoved into his pockets and in fists, before cursing and moving forward to find him.

* * *

 

The wind picked up a  few minutes later, as if punishing Jesse for his ventures. The light jacket he had on was barely enough to shelter him, but the bite of the cold barely got through to him. His senses were more prioritized on finding Hanzo. He could tell something was wrong, a hidden intuition that had never failed him before. It told him to run.

He wouldn’t run, of course. Not back into the house at least. The only way he would run was forward until he picked up any traces of Hanzo, until he found him.

“Hanzo!” his call was met by yet another gust of wind, this time strong enough to knock him forward with a hoarse yell. He caught himself just in time, leaning on a tree to catch his breath and his bearings. It was enough time for him to notice a shred of fabric that upon closer inspection he deemed as a bit of Hanzo’s ribbon. It was unmistakable, and if he had any doubts thus far, one sniff was all it took to confirm that theory.

The panic and worry in his gut spiked up significantly, and the cold grasp of the _thing_ inside of him rose up to claw against his conscience in response.

And despite the fact that it was the last thing he wanted, he couldn’t help but think that it was also the very thing he _needed._ His senses in this form, although stronger than the average human’s, were still nothing compared to those in his wolf form. It could be the only way to find Hanzo.

He hated himself for it. But likewise, he had little choice. As a result, he ripped his clothes off almost instantly in a fervor he’d never felt before. Desperation clawed inside of him, the need both feral and human to find Hanzo making it so that all it took was the last piece of cloth falling from his body to trigger the transformation.

At first, his senses are dulled. A numbness goes through his body as the transformation sets in, shielding him from the vast majority of the pain that would otherwise envelop his entire body and knock him out cold. In a way, he hated the numb more than anything. It made him malleable, changed him. It was what told of things to come. The helplessness. The need to _hunt._

The loss of his humanity.

True to those beliefs, the moment the drug-like substance wears off his mind turns sharper, clearer. But the thoughts of Hanzo are drowned out by the shrill screech in his head that willed him to hunt. To kill. To eat. He couldn’t fight against it, it was the only thing his newly cleared mind held. There was no more room for human thought and conscience. He was the wolf, the wolf was him… and he ran off to do what it commanded him even as he fought with himself to prioritize Hanzo.

He could hear everything, could sense the heat of the smallest of creatures burrowed deep in the soil and ready for the taking. He could taste the blood even if it wasn’t yet on his tongue, and the wind buffeting his form and pushing him forward, guiding and goading for him to follow his will. But he fought. He fought against it, fought against the feral needs to focus on what was most important. To focus on _Hanzo._

His laugh. His smile. His heat. Everything that was and would ever be Hanzo, the man who gave him a chance, the man who didn’t know his past. The man who didn’t judge him, who didn’t make him feel like something to be pitied or coddled but also not someone to be feared.

The man he needed to help. The man he needed to find before it was too late.

It was enough. He ripped himself out of his delusional thoughts with a guttural sound, an odd mix between a screech and a growl. He gasped for air he regained control over his body and senses; it doesn’t take him long to get used to it, to make sure he was back, before Jesse is moving yet again. This time, he’s focused on something else however. This time he is clean.

 

Although he couldn’t tell the distance between himself and Hanzo, he picked up his scent almost instantly. He didn’t sense anything beyond that, thankfully - there was no scent of blood or anything that could have posed a danger to them… but he doesn’t risk taking his time and rushes to go find Hanzo anyways.

So he runs. It’s all he can do, all that his mind is telling him. He has to run, to find Hanzo, or else there’d be consequences. His paws itch, his breathing is labored, and he can’t seem to get to him fast enough no matter how much he pushes himself to do so. He just focuses on running.

He just focused on Hanzo.

He didn’t know how he got to the clearing, but he froze once he spotted Hanzo, once the far away scent became solid and real in front of him, not a distant dream and hope. His breathing is labored from the distance he had ran, and he cannot talk even if he wanted to with a distinct lack of lips or specialized vocal chords. He lets out a worried whine instead to get his attention, a silent question and more than enough worry present in it.

Hanzo turned around, expression unreadable, and despite the seeming serenity he held himself with Jesse could feel the tension in the air. Hanzo was fighting. His eyes wavered, flickering between Jesse and the shadows, his hands rolled up into fists and clutching the fabric of his clothes. Hanzo was fighting… the worst part was that Jesse knew he could not fight these enemies. They weren’t physical, but they were hardly less dangerous.

Jesse approached cautiously, watching Hanzo for any sharp, dangerous movements that would signal he wanted Jesse to leave. He displayed none of them, but Jesse doesn't take his chances and continues to take his time walking over until he is standing right next to the Okami.

He waited for a second, wavering slightly on his paws as he debated pressing himself against Hanzo. Touch was a comfort to him, but he wasn't sure of the man’s preferences… still, eventually he caved and flopped down to sit down with his head leaning on Hanzo’s with a whine. He wagged his tail uncertainly when the okami’s hands rose up to gingerly grab onto the fur around his neck. At first the fingers are hesitant, experimental, but eventually they grasp more firmly at Jesse’s fur until he had maneuvered himself so that his face is pressed against Jesse’s neck and his arms are gripping tightly and desperation around his shoulders.

He wanted to say something, anything to comfort Hanzo, but he couldn’t. He only let out a soft bark, resting his chin on top of the man’s head. Nails were digging rather painfully into his skin, burrowing deep into his flesh… but he didn’t complain or move away. Hanzo needed him - a little discomfort wouldn’t push him away.

They sit like that for a while, long enough for the pain to subside and instead to transform into a dull, warm throb. Hanzo might have loosened his grip, might have not, but Jesse had been more focused on how he was feeling to worry too much about himself. His thoughts strayed idly, but never reaching far from his current scenario. It takes Hanzo shifting slightly for him to return to the present, just in time to catch the soft whisper against his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He’d have given anything to change back now, to tell the man he had nothing in the world to be sorry for. He didn’t even know if it was true, but he didn’t want to hear that pain, that helplessness, coming from someone like Hanzo. It made everything inside of him hurt, made his insides twist around themselves uncomfortably. Sadly he couldn’t just simply control this transformation, not during a full moon. That, and even if he could, there was the obvious problem that he lacked any clothes in his other form and he doubted he’d be comforting more than hilariously embarrassing if that happened. So instead he stayed silent, although he made a valid attempt to nuzzle him in response to try and at least convey the message… some sort of message.

He wasn’t quite sure if Hanzo understood, but he hoped that he did.

His mind relaxes when Hanzo’s body sags against his in relief, arms still tightly wrapped around him as if afraid to lose him. The nails were now definitely out of his skin, and he could feel the power of the moon ebbing away gradually. The worst of it was over, for Hanzo it seemed that way too. But with the lack of such pressing matters forcing themselves into his head, Jesse becomes acutely aware of the cold that surrounds them. The wind hadn’t died down, they had simply not been paying attention to it.

He didn’t know if Hanzo could or could not get sick. He didn’t feel like chancing it.

Jesse let out a low bark to get the Okami’s attention, an attempt that works and causes Hanzo to glance up at him in query. The lack of any true, logical communication is frustrating but he stands up and barks again in an attempt to get the man to follow suite. He is relieved when he doesn’t have to explain himself and Hanzo gets up, using Jesse as support to walk.

One hand constantly on his back, they made their way back to the house. The path they took was the only one Jesse remembered taking, and when he spotted his pile of clothes it was mostly just an afterthought he followed up on to pick them up in his jaws. He chances a glance up towards Hanzo as he does so, but the man didn’t seem to be paying attention and was still lost in his mind. A low, worried whine escaped Jesse and he hurries his pace until they were finally home.

The house was dark, although it was still warm from the dying embers of the fire. He didn’t stop at the living room, however, leading Hanzo straight into his own room and bed. He is more than ready to leave, to give the man the space he may or may not need, only to be stopped by Hanzo’s hand firm on his back. His expression was unreadable and Jesse was surprised, but he waited nevertheless for whatever he had to say. Hanzo doesn’t say anything. All he does is pat the space next to him on the bed, urging Jesse to jump up.

He hesitated at first, waiting for Hanzo to rethink his decision of fear that he was simply saying it because he was tired and worn out, that he didn’t want this. But when he doesn’t, Jesse carefully jumps up with a soft woof, eyeing hanzo with concern. The Okami stares back briefly, unnerving him with his ability to hide so many emotions from Jesse. He couldn’t determine anything the man was thinking of. Soon his eyes closed, and he laid his hand on Jesse’s back once more. He doesn’t fall asleep at first, listening to Hanzo’s gradually relaxing breathing as he drifted off.

Sleep soon followed him too, although as he was slowly taken by it he swore he could hear Hanzo’s soft whisper.

“Please don’t leave me.”

He wasn’t awake long enough to be sure.

* * *

 

After the events that had transpired were finally at a comfortable end, Jesse had been far too tired to think about much else but sleep. It had taken him a span of a few short minutes, although even then he was acutely aware of the heat of Hanzo’s palm still firmly settled on his skin through his dreams. They were strange dreams, too. It had been mostly a dark dreamless void with a single pinprick of warm light throbbing off at a distance he couldn’t reach but could still feel, strangely in sync with Hanzo’s pulse and heartbeat.

He had conveniently forgotten that it was very easy to shed your second body when asleep after a full moon, and he had also conveniently forgotten that he had no clothes on when he did. The thing he _hadn’t_ forgotten at the time was that he needed to stay with Hanzo, but the morning proved to be a different matter as he groggily woke up and found that he couldn’t remember how he had gotten there… or where there actually was.

It took him sharply turning to sit to catch sight of Hanzo still curled up in the sheets and fast asleep to realize where he was and to have his memories come crashing back down around him. It took only a glance down to realize he was now very much a human, and very much naked. So used to changing alone he had forgotten that clothes were a thing that he probably needed once he woke up, or at least when he woke up next to someone else who would probably not appreciate waking up to him naked.

He wouldn’t complain if it had been for a different reason, but this was not that reason, and he promptly pushed that reason out of his head when he could sense the first pinpricks of arousal coursing through his veins. It didn’t stop his body from heating up in a blush, but it _did_ calm his racing thoughts down so that Hanzo couldn’t sense anything out of place.

He was glad, at least, that he brought his clothes in with him last night in the rush of things. They were still lying on a pile next to the foot of the bed and the moment he spotted them Jesse wasted no time in quickly jumping out of bed as gently and quietly as possible to put them on. He was still glad for the relatively loose and easy to put on clothes that Hanzo had offered him, for the entire process was largely quiet and easy and he managed to put everything on before the Okami awoke. Either the man had just been pretending to rest or his luck was spot on, because he woke up the moment that he finished, blinking blearily up from under covers.

He couldn’t help but feel his heart swell, unwanted affection filling him up to the brim. He’d kill men to be able to stay like this, to have Hanzo look so dishevelled and adorable… and to be his at the same time.

But Hanzo wasn’t his, and he didn’t want to kill anyone on this land if he could help it.

They stared at each other for a while, only looking away when the air turned too awkward to continue. Another blush had creeped up Jesse’s face but he successfully rubbed it off in a few seconds just in time to speak to Hanzo before he exploded in the silence.

“Morning, sugar,” he tried his best to sound cheerful, to forget about his ideas and simply be glad that he was even here in the first place, that Hanzo had trusted him enough that he wanted him to remain for the rest of the evening. If Hanzo picked up that anything was wrong, he didn’t say it.

“Good morning, Jesse,”

More silence. Jesse spared a glance at Hanzo, who was still not looking in his direction. The desperation and need for affection from yesterday seemed all gone… he couldn't help but feel a selfish jealousy enter his veins. He wanted it again, wanted Hanzo to look at him like he _needed_ him. His hands curled into fists as he fought against himself, and soon enough he deflated sadly at the realization that he was acting like a dick. Hanzo didn't owe him anything. It was high time he learned to remember that.

Another silence ensued but before long Jesse cleared his throat, bobbing up and down briefly on the balls of his feet as he turned increasingly anxious. He needed to talk to Hanzo; he needed to talk about what had happened, but in reality he just wanted to talk to the man _at all._ The occasional gruff greetings that they had exchanged the past two or so days hardly counted and he yearned for a proper conversation.

“So… about yesterday,” he had no better starting point at the moment. The events at least had some substance to them rather than if he tried to come up with something out of the blue. Talking about the weather wasn’t something he had ever been good at, although he could keep a mean conversation if he tried.

Hanzo instantly looked up, eyes sharp and burrowing into Jesse’s body as if he were dead set on burning holes into it. His shoulders were visibly tense, his posture straight as a pole. He could see the telltale clench of his jaw as well, and Jesse knew instantly not to push anything onto Hanzo lest the man explode.. The discomfort in the air increased to the point that he swore he could taste it. But other than that, Hanzo stayed silent. Jesse assumed it was safe enough to continue; if not on the same path, then at least a path similar to it.

“I’m mighty glad you were okay, but,” he trails off, arms idly waving towards Hanzo as if to emphasize his statement. His thoughts trailed back to the evening, to the panic that had set in when he realized something could have happened. The fear that it was his fault. A deep sigh left his jaws and he shrugged, letting his arms drop back down to his sides as he continued. “You gave me a damn scare. I thought something had happened to you.” Words couldn’t rightfully explain what he had felt, but they were all he had that could show Hanzo his desperation.

Although that didn’t feel quite right. He knew exactly how he could have shown Hanzo what he meant to him, how much he would hate himself if something happened. The problem was that he couldn’t actively carry out those thoughts. He doubted he was even a friend to the okami, despite his own feelings. Self doubt was a bitch to throw off, and Jesse had never been good at it in the first place. Before he could delve too deep into his own thoughts Hanzo spoke up, voice hoarse and uncertain.

“I am… sorry,” although there was a hesitant pause between the first words and the apology, Jesse couldn’t pick up any doubt or insincerity in the man’s words. It sounded more like he had tried and failed to come up with an statement that could excuse his actions, and Jesse couldn’t help but notice the parallels between himself and Hanzo in that regard. Before he could say anything in response, he was cut off as Hanzo decided to conclude his apology with an explanation. “I could not be around anyone at the moment.”

He truly wants to feel angry, to feel some sort of disappointment or a sense of betrayal. Yet Jesse cannot bring himself to feel any of it, understanding flooding his body instead. He couldn’t hold Hanzo’s decisions against him, not when he had visibly fought whatever mental battle he was fighting and looked like he had barely won it. He had no right to deprive Hanzo of the right to deal with his own problems in his own way and on his own terms. He just couldn’t. Even if he felt selfish, wanted to scream and kick and break down and call Hanzo out on it… Jesse couldn’t. It’d be hypocrisy at it’s finest, for he had spent countless nights away from society simply because he couldn’t bear to face anything or anyone after the mental exhaustion he felt whenever things got too hard.

He still had the right to be tired, and a fatigued sigh left his parted lips as he took his place on the edge of the bed, careful not to invade Hanzo’s personal space. The man in question peered up at him, hesitant and uncertain with a silent question that Jesse couldn’t understand in his eyes.

“It’s alright, Han. You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmured softly, receiving an idle and seemingly meaningless hum in return. Soon a deep sigh resounded from next to him, and Jesse shifted his gaze from off of his hands to instead look up at Hanzo. The Okami was staring passively back at him with another unreadable expression.

Jesse was nervous about it until Hanzo spoke.

“I… noticed you had changed. I'm sorry for not asking if you were okay.”

He was surprised at the statement, at the _apology._ No, rather he was surprised about the fact that Hanzo believed he even _needed_ an apology. As far as Jesse was concerned, he had nothing to be feeling sorry or guilty about. Not when he wasn't even angry.

“It's alright, Hanzo. I was fine, really,” he thought back to the event, frowning as he realized that “fine”... actually really didn't cut it. “More than fine, really. Now that I think about it, it was better than it had ever been so far.” He had only changed because he wanted to find Hanzo as fast as possible… and during that time he really didn't have the time to think about his own condition. But before that? He hadn't even felt the _urge_ to change in the first place.

“You…” it sounded like Hanzo wanted to say something, but he didn't, furrowing his brow and stopping before he could. Jesse knew what a man struggling for words looked like… he also knew too well how hard it was to find them. He couldn't help Hanzo. He could only stay quiet and let the man think.

“Thank you,” he eventually mumbled, and although his tone was without a doubt sincere there was an unmistakable anger underneath. Not anger towards Jesse… anger towards himself. Before Jesse could try to say anything, to attempt to comfort Hanzo as much as he needed, the Okami continued to speak. “I should not have just left without telling you. Thank you… for caring enough to want to find me.”

“Of course… I would never just leave you somewhere to die.”

Jesse looked up at the sudden shuffling of sheets, curious at the commotion. Hanzo had been fixing his position, sheets bundled up around himself as if forming a protective barrier between himself and the outside world. He might have even looked cute, if not for all the glaring he was throwing around at the bed and sheets in turn. Who was he kidding, though. The glaring was adorable as well, although he feared that he had said something wrong to warrant it.

He grew nervous at the realization, still having very little intentions to try and down Hanzo. “Did… I say something wrong?” he asked meekly.

“No. It is fine.” The answer was short and fairly harsh, and Jesse couldn't help but scoff. Hanzo was trying to avoid something. The need to know what briefly overpowered him. Not when Hanzo looked greatly worked up over it.

“It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

Hanzo released a clearly irritated sigh, and Jesse just barely manages to catch the roll of his eyes. He was getting impatient… as was he, in turn. Still he remained silent as he let Hanzo speak, hopeful that the man would explain what was on his mind. He had no such luck.

“Please, do not push this. I am fine, simply tired,” the Okami ground out between a clenched jaw, his hands grasping at the sheets tightly once more. It was what caused Jesse to relent with a sigh, leaning back to show that he was going to respect the man’s wishes. He wanted to fight more, to get after whatever Hanzo was hiding, but if he was questioning himself thus far the glare Hanzo offered him sternly soon after to keep him at bay worked.

“Alright darling…” he weighed his options carefully, not at all blind to the amount of peering that Hanzo was doing. “But despite that I'm still going to insist that I make breakfast today instead of the other way around.”

“Why?” He snapped back, but by now Jesse knew how to discern when he truly meant the sour tone. The edge was largely gone from his tone, although the last remains of his suspicion were hard to evict.

“I don't want you spending too much energy,” he replied lightly, picking at the sheets absently. “You don't look so well after yesterday.”

Hanzo didn't look pleased with the offer, but Jesse found it a good sign that he didn't say anything against the topic. Instead he simply made his displeasure known by looking away from him with a huff, to which the gunslinger responded to with a soft chuckle and a nod. It was enough for him to not get an outright refusal, and so he stood up to go to the kitchen.

He was working on setting up when Hanzo wandered in, peering at him from the doorway. He spared him no glance, simply staring at the ingredients with no lack of suspicion, although Jesse thought little of it and offered him a cheerful wave when he managed to gain the okami’s attention. It didn’t linger on him for long, as he looked back at the food with another huff and maneuvered himself loftily towards the table to sit. Jesse was hyper aware of him watching, although he pushed the feeling down and continued to cook as best he could and started to hum to calm his erratic thoughts.

They sat in silence, only the said humming between them. Hanzo’s gaze, at first unnerving, ironically ended up being a comfortable heat boring into him. He basked in the attention, for he found that it wasn’t aggressive or volatile. Maybe it had been at first, or maybe he had only imagined that with his own anxieties working on his nerves, but now… Hanzo was just gazing curiously at him, and Jesse was more than comfortable to let him.

Besides. It’d be hypocritical of him to say otherwise. He had taken as many chances as he could to simply stare at Hanzo without end.

“Thank you,” Hanzo mumbled under his breath when the food was placed before him. It was nothing as fancy as the things that the okami had prepared; meals Jesse could only try to comprehend and wouldn’t even try to pronounce. He only knew some of them because he vaguely recollected eating some of them when an old friend of his gave it to him to try. Maybe he was biased or maybe it was true, but he found that Hanzo’s was better.

No, all that he had come up with was a mess of things that had the decency of actually tasting good. He had to cut himself some slack for it, however. There had been some potatoes (which he found with some profuse digging) and a bunch of strange vegetables for him to use, not much else… and a lot of the things he saw in the cupboards and fridge had been things he couldn’t name and was afraid to touch lest he screw it up. So he took that which he knew, and then simply shoved it all in a pan with a healthy dose of spice.

Still, he was glad when Hanzo ate it without complaint, neither stating his distaste nor a particular affinity towards the meal. Although he still worried slightly about it, eventually his mind moved onto more pressing matters  as he sat down opposite him. He got to thinking, mainly about the previous night and about Hanzo. Specifically his words, the ones he used when he didn’t want Jesse to leave.

How he didn’t change despite the fact that he stated he could. That every werewolf or shifted or any kind he had ever met had done it one way or another, willingly or not.

At first he figured it must have been the prosthetics. Perhaps they hurt when changing, or they didn’t just simply morph into an actual limb like they did with his. Not everyone had magical technology that could do that. But that answer was just plain stupid. A little bit of pain meant nothing in comparison, and for him the transformation held no pain whatsoever.

The answer, then, had to fall under the mental category. There was still the sliver of a chance that it wasn’t… but Jesse trusted his intuition enough to bet his money on it. The idea sadly ended up bringing up even less savory thoughts. A guy had to have lived through some awful shit to be able to bear the pressing ache that accompanied shifting. Whenever Jesse so much as tried to deny his body it’s rightful change it ended up hurting more than the shift itself. His entire body felt uncomfortable, like it itched but he couldn’t place where. So he could bear it whenever he needed to. He could deal with it once every month, and then go back to pretending he was fully human all the other days.

Hanzo seemed unwilling to do even that.

“You have questions.”

The low rumble of Hanzo’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Jesse felt himself blush at the realization that it wasn’t an inquiry but rather a statement… an _invitation._

“They’re stupid questions,” he quickly mumbled in response, stabbing a piece of corn and glancing away like a child about to be scolded. “Don’t worry about them.”

“There is no such thing as a stupid question,” Hanzo murmured, ignoring Jesse’s scoff. “Ask. I promise I will not bite.”

The toothy grin that Hanzo used to punctuate the statement (Jesse’s eyes caught on the fangs in that mouth, licking involuntarily at his own in response) caused the man to chuckle, giving in to the prospect of sharing his stupid sentiments. At this point he could do very little against it. The mood had improved around them once more even if the uncertainty still shrouded them. It was enough to soften his heart, make him a fool to ideas that should have otherwise deterred him.

He was supposed to be a man of reason, damn it. A sharpshooter with a sharper mind. And yet here he was…

“Alright, but I’m holding you to your word,” Jesse quipped lightly, glad to hear Hanzo’s soft laugh. “I was just… wondering why you hadn’t changed yesterday. You seemed in a lot of pain and yet…” he waved his hand idly in the air to try and encompass what he meant, unable to force the words out of his mouth. And yet he didn’t. And yet he fought, when Jesse saw no good reason for it.

Hanzo went silent at the words. After a few seconds it settled uncomfortably around them, and Jesse silently cursed himself for asking. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed the topic, not so fresh… maybe not at all. He didn’t have any rights to pry into Hanzo’s life when he wasn’t going to be around to find out enough about it anyways. He opened his mouth to apologize, to try and amend things once more, but he is interrupted by Hanzo’s hand flying up to stop him and his own words spilling out, beating Jesse to the race.

“I couldn’t afford to lose myself. That was all,” the words don’t hint at anything more or less, nothing that could truly give him a clue of what was going on in Hanzo’s head. The answer was as cryptic as the man who uttered them, but learning his lesson Jesse didn’t press upon it. Definitely not with the expression Hanzo was making, a half grimace and half… something else. Guilt?

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much… you seem like a tough guy,” Jesse murmured in response, unsure of what Hanzo wanted him to say but also not wanting to remain silent in response. He was relieved to find that his response must have been successful enough as Hanzo chuckled once more, although he wasn’t sure if it was genuine. It sounded sad… he cleared his throat and looked away from the okami the moment he realized he was staring, eyes with no doubt clearly revealing the fact that he wanted to know more, that he was seeking answers that Hanzo was equally unwilling to give.

Jesse lets the topic go readily. Yet his head was still far from done with him. He finds himself staring at the wall but not seeing it, instead the image of Hanzo last night replacing it. He couldn’t get the memory out of his head, the man desperately clawing at Jesse as if to make sure he was real, begging him to stay as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He hadn’t focused on it back then, but he could now remember the obvious scent of fear, of guilt and of desperation that had filled the night.

“I was thinking about last night a bit, actually,” he couldn’t stop himself from talking, even as every one of his senses, every one of his survival instincts screamed at him to shut up.

“Oh? And about what?” Hanzo sounded guarded, and Jesse can’t help but chuckle grimly at the irony of it.

He knew he was going to regret this decision one day. Sooner rather than later, knowing his luck. But even as everything in his body yelled at him to run, to stop, to just _shut the hell up…_ his heart, his stupid fucking heart and soul overpowered it all.

“I was thinking that maybe staying wouldn’t be all that bad.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :^)

Life had been pleasantly uneventful after that fateful night. Life was peaceful, perfect even. Jesse had forgotten about the fact that he was on the run, the idea leaving his system almost as if by magic. He hadn’t felt the urge to run, and if he had… he truly wouldn’t have understood why. Because, for the first time in a very long while Jesse McCree felt safe, there with Hanzo in his little hut in the middle of nowhere. If he didn’t know any better he might have even thought that the entire situation was quite homey. Everything pointed towards it, and Hanzo’s hospitality was easy to mistake for something more especially if it was something Jesse secretly yearned for. 

But Jesse strongly advocated against such ideas the moment they showed up, fighting valiantly and winning against his head. His affections had their place, they didn’t need to turn into wishful fantasies of Hanzo returning his sentiments. What he had was more than enough, more than what Jesse had ever hoped or dared to wish for. Even now it still seemed like a dream, like he’d wake up and be back on the run, or back in Blackwatch with Reyes on another mission, thinking up magical wolf gods as a result of his life decisions.

Not gods, he reminded himself. Okami. By now he couldn't associate Hanzo with a god if he tried. He'd given up on all those mythical heavenly creations long ago, his faith completely eradicated. No loving god left their people to die. No loving god watched people starve, die, resort to stealing and crime to survive while the sinners played holy. No god had a place in his heart. But an Okami did. 

But wishful thinking, dreams or reality… he was content to stay like this. He had always been on the move, on the run for as long as he remembered. Jesse never had a chance to settle and slow down for a second. He never really had a chance to see how it was like to lead a normal life instead of one that was forced upon him because he had no other option in sight.

Well… no other viable option, really. He had always been given several, but most options were thinly veiled death threats. Despite everything, Reyes was right about one thing. He sure had a hell of a survival instinct. 

But to slow down seemed pleasant. Leading a life like this was simple, and although he never considered himself someone who could settle down, moments like this proved otherwise. His biggest problems were if he had enough daylight hours to hunt for food and if he’d get a chance to lightly flirt or banter with the man sheltering him. He didn’t have to think about when he’d get his next meal, about rationing food, or if today was the day he should expect to die. He'd give anything to stay, if he could. 

But he really had no options. If he didn't follow through with his plans, if he just decided to hide away like everything was alright he knew that the shadows would never leave him. The faces of the dead would remain with Jesse until he met his end. And if he settled down, that end would be long and torturous in coming. 

But all he had to deal with now was the cold, and even that wasn’t a bother when there was a warm bed and fire to keep it at bay. A soft sigh escaped Jesse’s parted lips as he watched his cigarette smoke dissipate into the frigid air around him. A few minutes passed and he let the embers dwindle down, before letting the stick fall to the ground and finally die under the heel of his boot. It was silent in the morning, only the chirping of birds to remind him that the earth was still alive, just asleep. 

Hanzo didn’t have to announce his presence for Jesse to know he had arrived, quietly approaching and leaning against the wall of the hut to stare into the distance along with him. There were no words spoken between them, but there was no need. A silent understanding had been formed between them in the passing days, a knowledge that they needed not to speak in order to enjoy each other’s company. Just as Jesse enjoyed his words, he learned that Hanzo enjoyed his silence. They took turns indulging in both when the time came for it, but he had picked up on the fact that the okami largely enjoyed more subtle, calming mornings. 

A few minutes ticked by before Hanzo tilted his head slightly to look at Jesse instead, the thoughtful expression not falling from his gaze. Jesse met his eyes, offering a slight smile that Hanzo softly yet surely returned. 

“Something on your mind?” Jesse asked, crossing his arms as both a guard against the wind and just out of simple comfort. Hanzo waited a moment before responding, and although his gaze bore into Jesse and was borderline disconcerting, he didn't mind it enough to look away. He waited patiently for a response that was to come, thinking little of how long the Okami seemed to be waiting around to do so.

“I am going into town for a bit to get more supplies and warmer clothes for the winter,” Hanzo responded after a while, turning his attention back to the distance. Jesse continued staring while the man reached up to fix his hair, pulling it back into a neat ponytail. He looked away quickly however when Hanzo’s earthy eyes returned to lock onto his. “Would you like to join me?”

Jesse hadn’t even been aware that Hanzo ever needed to leave this house to go anywhere to buy things, although it shouldn’t have been that surprising the more he thought about it. Hanzo couldn’t conjure things up with his mind, and beyond food and magical healing water there really wasn’t much out there that could help serve him. Medicine, clothes… all of that had to come from somewhere. But to be asked to go out somewhere with Hanzo? It made him happier than he cared to admit, both because it would be nice to explore the more civilized part of the area while not being hunted down and because it made him think of it as an.. Outting. A date, even.

He cleared his throat as it closed up on him at the idea.

“I’d love to, darling. I need a few things along the way as well, so I might as well join you,” he coughed, and although it wasn’t a lie, Jesse knew the main reason he was accompanying Hanzo was just to be around him. Still, new clothes and some trinkets would be nice to buy, especially now that he could afford them. Maybe once he truly did leave Hanzo, he could leave something behind that the okami could remember him by if he wanted to. Or not, it really wasn’t up to him in the end.

“Perfect. Get dressed and we will go."

He nods, wasting no time to brush past Hanzo and back inside from where he came from. The warmth that radiated from the room warmed him almost instantly, a soft sigh emitting from his lungs as a result. He hadn't realized Hanzo walking in with him, too preoccupied with walking into his designated room and getting dressed. He still had his old clothes, which had been washed and mended by Hanzo himself a while back and were lying neatly on a chair in the room he had started to call his. He still hadn't worn them, still favoring the looser clothing he had been given. But for this weather, they were far better fitting. Besides… it'd be fun to go back to his old style, even if just for a moment. It was cheesy and with no doubt looked cheap… but he liked it. It was comfortable, warm, and reminded him of simpler times. It was almost like he wore them only as a result of nostalgia, although that wasn't quite it either. No matter what it was, they were the warmest clothes he had at that moment and so he put them on, much more comfortable now that his serape was wrapped securely around his shoulders.

He breathed in the comfortable scent, only to stop with a frown when he noticed that Hanzo’s smell seemed intertwined with it far more than if it was just the air. He pinched the ends of the fabric, bringing it up to his nose to tentatively smell, and sure enough the smell was far more prevalent than just a passing scent. 

Jesse found himself enjoying it more than he should have. He found that he didn't feel like having it air out, and quickly took it off and threw it haphazardly on the bed. He could live without a serape - it wasn't winter yet, and he'd sat through worse colds with far thinner clothing. He wanted to give into his selfishness.

Once he was dressed to his content, Jesse left his room and found Hanzo waiting for him. He froze halfway through the door, instantly noting the sudden change in apparel. No longer did Hanzo wear his yukata, but rather adorned modern and quite fitting clothing. It left very little to the imagination, although Jesse wasn't sure if it was because the shirt was designed that way or because Hanzo happened to have… a very well sculpted chest.  _ Very _ well sculpted. He coughed, embarrassed when he realized that he had been staring and Hanzo had been watching every second of it with a quirked brow and an idle smirk.

He was grateful when Hanzo doesn't mention it at all, moving on to instead ask him if he was ready. 

“Y-yeah,” Jesse stuttered out, failing to find his voice quickly enough but not wanting to leave Hanzo hanging. He watches those muscles ripple under the shirt and skin when Hanzo puts on a jacket with one fluid movement, throat going dry with non-too discreet ideas of what he'd be willing to be done to him with those arms.

“Perfect. Then let us go.”

* * *

They went into the town close by, a place he had been inside of in passing but hadn’t stayed long enough to analyze. But the moment he had time to wander, he found that it was pleasant. It wasn’t a small town, although he’d also seen bigger, but what interested him most was the market. Shops of all sizes and ranges, selling everything from potions to clothes to animals littered the area. There was something for everyone, although the two men don’t dwindle for Hanzo seemed to know exactly where he was going.

They take a shortcut to one of the alchemic shops, a quaint building with little commerce going to and from it. But despite it’s rather small consumer-base, it still held up and it's reputation seemed trustworthy enough to gain Hanzo’s interest. 

And so Jesse chose to trust it. He wasn't sure what to expect, although the scents that draw him over are enticing. He watches some sort of fae leave the building, but his attention is soon raptly stolen by the shop once more when they brush past them to enter. It was the scent that captivated him the most, the strong scent of magic but soothing, not like the wild kind Jesse was used to. It smelled similar to Hanzo.

Upon entering the shop is dimly lit, but it doesn’t stop the gleam and shine of all kinds of magical concoctions that littered the walls. Jesse couldn’t name half of them if he tried, and vaguely wondered if it was mostly for show and it was nothing but colored water in most of them. He eradicates that thought quickly. Hanzo wouldn’t be taking him to a con shop. He stops to analyze the bottles anyways, while Hanzo strides past him with purpose towards the counter to wait. 

“I’ll be right there, give me a second!” a distant voice echoes out from a nearby closed off room, and Jesse swore he knew that voice from somewhere. It was a distant memory trying to reappear but he was unable to grasp it, and the curiosity was too strong for him to continue staring at meaningless potions. He turned around, staring suspiciously at both Hanzo and the door. It sounds so  _ familiar.  _ The anticipation was killing him.

The moment the woman comes out, it instantly jogs his memory. Despite the forming wrinkles on her face and the silvery hair, she was still the same from when he knew her from days past. Still the same confident air, the strong nose and brows, the subtle knowing smirk. It had been years since he had seen her, however. A decade maybe even, although he had lost track of time a while ago. He couldn’t remember, especially not now when the shock had hit him hard enough to knock all the air out of his lungs.

“A-Ana?” Last he remembered she had been dead, killed in an accident between her and the infamous widowmaker. To see her here, now…. it seemed almost impossible. Her presence brought in so many new possibilities, so many new dangers and fears… he struggled to find the words needed to address her, and eventually fell back on one simple thought. “I thought… I thought you were dead.” 

She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him. She carried herself like always, a knowing and calm aura enveloping her despite the circumstances. It’s like she had always known he’d come by this quaint shop in the middle of nowhere to visit her, that he’d find her alive and well and… hiding? What  _ was  _ she doing?

“Well, I had to come back. My job was far from done,” she purred out coyly, an exasperated breath leaving Jesse at her tone. 

“Why didn't you try to contact me? To contact  _ anyone ? _ What about Jack? Reyes? Your own  _ daughter? _ ” he accused, but still Ana showed no sign of caring, no sign of guilt or hesitance in her response.

“It was best I disappear. No one needed to know what had happened to me, Jesse.”

She suddenly glanced at Hanzo, gaze mirthful and an idle smirk gracing her lips. “Besides. I see you don’t need  _ my  _ company.” 

He knew that look at tone, it had been used many times before on her own daughter when she brought home her… “friends.” He sputtered as a result, coughing to get himself organized as both Hanzo and Ana chuckled. They were both damn teases. He didn’t need this in his life right now.

Jesse knew that fighting against Ana was pointless. The woman had the resilience and stubbornness of a mule. She believed strongly in her ideals and actions, and it would be more than impossible to try and shake that. Ana thought what she did was best. He disagreed with it, but he couldn’t find the strength or will to fight.

A subtle sigh left his jaws before he spoke, taking off his hat to respectfully address her. “Regardless. It's good to see you, ma’am. It's been… far too long and stressful of a time since last we met.” 

“Likewise, Jesse. Take care of yourself for me,” Ana murmured fondly with a soft sigh, but she wasted no time turning her attention towards Hanzo the moment she was done. “Now. I'm assuming the regular?”

“Indeed,” his response was curt, straight to business. This was something they had rehearsed many times before, it seemed, so he let them do it while hovering back and waiting for it to finish.

“All packed up and ready to go. Your timing is getting far more predictable, Hanzo.” Although her tone was light, he knew a veiled warning when he heard one, and the Okami released a frustrated breath. He seemed to pick up on it too. “I know. Thank you, and until later.”

Ana nodded subtly, handing the package over to Hanzo. “Until later,” the goodbye was stiff and strained, as if she didn’t quite believe it. Jesse regards her suspiciously, but then turns to leave when Hanzo makes it out the door as well. He is stopped before he can, a light call of his name bringing his attention back to the dimly-lit figure. 

“Take care of him for me too, alright?” The statement is cryptic, and he wasn’t sure what she meant by it but had no chance to ask when he hears Hanzo call his name out from the outside, a hint of impatience present in his tone. He nods to Ana in departure, unable to comprehend the request even then. Hanzo looked like he could take care of everything that came his way. What could  _ he  _ do?

He is greeted by Hanzo’s inquiring look when he exits. Jesse offers him a cheerful smile, but drops it nervously when Hanzo doesn’t return it in lieu of staring. 

“I wasn't aware that you knew the alchemist,” he starts, and the smile is back on Jesse’s face, albeit nervous. 

“She… I didn't know her as an alchemist. Pardon if I don’t feel comfortable giving out her entire history-”

“No, no. It is fine, I would not want to hear it even if you offered,” Hanzo cut in before he could say more, then continued idly. “I was just surprised.”

He nods in understanding, which causes Hanzo to turn around and continue walking at a brisk and rather unforgiving pace. He struggled to catch up, but eventually manages to keep up with the shorter man 

“Where we heading off to next?” Jesse asks, genuinely curious as to where he’d be taken to next. Ana wasn’t gone from his head, but there was little he could do about her at the moment. Right now he was far more concerned about Hanzo, although Ana’s chiding tone fills his head when he acknowledges that thought. Was it that damn obvious how head over heals he was with the Okami? He hoped not. If it was that obvious, it meant that Hanzo had to politely hide knowing every step of the way. 

“Clothes,” he’s glad for Hanzo’s response, giving him a good excuse to leave his thoughts alone. He glanced down at his own clothes at the statement, nodding in agreement. Clothes were a good idea with the temperatures rapidly dropping with each passing day. Even now he felt chills periodically crawl up his spine and the wind never ceased it’s violent temper 

“Good idea,” he sighed longingly at the prospect of warmer clothes then continued. “Got a place in mind?”

“Yes. I’m… fairly sure it will be far more to your tastes than what I have been offering you thus far.”

“I’m happy for anything, sugar… but I will admit that having some of my old style back would be nice,” Jesse mused, earning him an amused huff from Hanzo. 

“I figured.”

The next shop they went to was far more expansive than Ana’s small alchemic shop. It was full to the brim with clothes of varying styles, the winter fashion just coming in once again. It was also much more crowded, and he noted Hanzo’s hesitance in walking in.

“Not a fan of crowds?” Jesse gently prompted, and the man responded silently with a shake of his head. He could understand that from his perspective, but it made him wonder about why Hanzo was so unwilling to be seen. He could dwell on it for ages if he felt like it, but in reality he really didn't. They were there to go clothes shopping, not to analyze the actions of each other.

So clothes shopping they went. Hanzo largely stayed off in his section while Jesse scanned his own, picking out different articles that he could imagine himself wearing. A large portion of them were also something he eagerly thought of Hanzo wearing… and it was why he had ended up putting more than half of the clothes back on the rack upon closer inspection. He’d never wear those clothes and make them look  _ good,  _  but he was fully convinced that Hanzo could wear everything and make it look good.

They met back together again eventually, clothes in hand and ready to leave. Jesse started to fish out his wallet before Hanzo stopped him with a raised hand.

“Let me,” the man murmured, and the surprise caused Jesse to pause.

“Now, darling I can’t let you-”

“It is not a request. It is a command. I am paying, Jesse,” Hanzo firmly insisted, and the fight he had been preparing in his bones died down immediately. He didn’t like it, not one bit, for having someone pay for his things made it seem like it was charity. Plus, he didn’t need it. He had been given a check only recently after a job well done and he was certain he could pay for it all himself.

But Hanzo’s stern expression forced him into silence, and he slowly and quietly pushed the wallet back down into his pocket with a low, displeased sound.

* * *

They managed to visit a few more shops before it was time to go, but despite the time that had passed Jesse still couldn't get the scenario out of his head. It itched in the back of his head the entire way back, until eventually he felt the need to say something before he imploded.  


“You really didn't need to -”

“Hush. I know what you are going to say, McCree, and I will not take it. View it as a gift,” Hanzo cut him off before Jesse could say anything, and he blinked dumbly down at the Okami with no coherent thought able to form and leave his mind. 

“Ah… yes. Of course,” he mumbled dejectedly in response, adjusting his weight to carry the bags that he had offered to carry as a result of Hanzo’s… possibly five hundred dollar gift. It still felt dirty to have someone pay for his things, especially when he was financially stable enough for it and he didn't know Hanzo’s financial state. He might have just sent five hundred down the drain that Hanzo could have used for more important things-

“You are overthinking things. I can tell,” Hanzo’s amused voice ripped him out of his thoughts and he paused in surprise. Overthinking… he wasn't overthinking anything. He was just stating the facts in his head.

“I ain't-”

A shuffle as loose rocks were displaced, the whisper of feet against ground; someone was there. He felt the subtle shift in his form before even realizing he was getting ready for battle, muscles straining against his taught skin as a show of strength. He didn't move from his spot despite it all, staring calmly into the dark and waiting for it to birth that which hid inside of it. But whereas his eyes had been unfocused a mere minute before, no details escaped their sharp gaze any longer. He inhaled the oxygen, keeping it trapped inside of his jaws until his eyes started to sting, then released it with a long exhale.   
  
Jesse could still hear he muted thuds of feet gently striking the ground, announcing another's departure. Each step careful and precise, more than one individual passing. He couldn’t see them yet, could only hear, but it was enough. It was enough to fill his ears with the thrum of war drums in his ears; enough to see the vague outline of bodies hitting the dull ground. It was enough to remember; to remember the sleepless nights, the smell of death that clung to him like a cloak, the whispers that surrounded him each day reminding him and accusing him and they would never  _ shut up _ -   
  
A breath. It did wonders to relax him, the fading remains of nicotine still stimulating his senses and providing a sense of calm with each inhale. The screams faded into the background once more, clawed hands receding into the shadows they came from. But despite it all, he had stood like a stone as his fears crept up on him in the dark, eyes unwavering from the darkness which sheltered the unknown. He hadn't spared the dead staring at him even a glance, ignoring them to cope. The fire kept them at bay, gave him something to focus on instead. So he lit a cigarette, a low light igniting the darkness once more as chocolate eyes fazed out to stare into nothing once more, to listen and locate the sounds he had heard mere moments ago.

He heard nothing. Only the hurried steps of Hanzo broke through the silence as he approached. He barely even noticed Hanzo’s hand on his shoulder, soft and comforting yet firm with no doubt as an attempt to ground him back to reality. It worked, somewhat. It was really Hanzo’s voice that ended up breaking the last of the spell.

“Are you alright?” Hanzo’s tone is inviting, but Jesse found comfort not in that but rather that the okami wasn't pushing. He wasn't being pressured to talk, not even gouded. Hanzo was taking what he could, giving him the space and time he desperately needed to calm his erratic thoughts. 

He watched the darkness for a few more seconds, but the sounds he had heard were long gone. Nothing but the shadows stared back, and even the memories he suppressed were back comfortably in the back of his mind. It was just him and Hanzo at this point, and Jesse dared to look down at him the moment he didn't fear the silence anymore. 

He was still on edge, but Hanzo’s presence promptly soothed him. He unabashedly basked in the man’s heat, the man’s presence. Perhaps Hanzo knew, although likewise maybe he didn't. It scarcely mattered to Jesse; he just needed him  _ there. _

“Yeah. Yeah I'm fine,” his voice is stronger than he expected it to be, ironically enough causing him to stumble over his response. “Just… thought I heard something.” 

He must have still been dissociating at least partially, because it took him a good while to realize that Hanzo was rubbing soothing circles into his shoulders to relieve the strain he hadn't realized was there. The best part was that it helped, the worst being that he wasn't sure how to feel about Hanzo touching him in such an intimate way. Maybe they had crossed a boundary he hadn't been aware of? Jesse wouldn't have been surprised at this point. Despite Hanzo’s obvious attempts at friendship, he was constantly pushing all feelings and hopes down. 

Now he only felt even worse. Not only was he an asshole without meaning to be, he was an asshole who hurt like hell everywhere and still had soft whispers of danger lingering behind in his head. But if Hanzo sensed a problem of a shift in his demeanor, he was once again polite enough to refrain from saying it. He continued to soothe Jesse methodically, as if it were the only thing that mattered; Jesse found himself wondering how many times Hanzo was just being polite and how many times he truly knew what was going on inside of his head. He’d expect the latter more often, although he was putting a lot of trust into a largely bias fueled statement.

“I am sure that if there was something out there, I would have heard it too.”

It was a good point. Jesse’s hybrid blood gave him heightened senses that included above average hearing among other things. He could only imagine what kind of hearing Hanzo had, with whatever kind of blood his Okami heritage gave him. He would have picked up any danger from miles away, without a doubt, and the realization caused Jesse to release a strained breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. 

There was nothing out there. There couldn’t be. And if there was, Hanzo was there to ward it off. He didn’t need to worry… right? 

It all sounded fake. His self-reassurances were only half-assed attempts to calm down, but it still didn’t work half as well as it should have. Jesse was still on edge, still hyper-focused on every sound and touch and smell. The only comfort he had was that Hanzo was an overwhelming part of those and gave him a good distraction.

“You are still nervous,” once again Hanzo had the uncanny ability to make his questions sound like statements, like invitations to talk and demands. Or maybe Jesse was just looking for an excuse to talk and Hanzo wasn’t trying to pry at all. Either way, he felt like he needed to no matter the reason. And so he talked. 

“I just… still can't get past the idea that nobody is here. Nobody is after me,” he murmured softly, barely above a whisper as if afraid of the outcome his words might bring. What if there was? Or even worse: what if there wasn’t until the moment he had decided to bring it up, and he had been safe until that point. Jesse’s mind was racing again, and he fidgeted in discomfort as his body started to itch in a way that could not be soothed by simple hands. It was under his skin, in his mind, all over and inside of him-

“Do you want them to be?”

The question caught him off guard, the noise and static in his head pausing abruptly. His eyes snapped sharply towards Hanzo’s, catching them in a deathlock as he fought to come up with a response. Did he want them? In a way… it was a comfort, knowing that everything was the same. It was predictable, a steady way of life that wouldn’t change and would at least be sure to keep him relatively safe. He had learned how to hide, how to survive and get ahead of those hunting him. But then again, a life without any stress sounded like the dream. To not have to run at all sounded too good.

“No…”

“Then shouldn’t you be happy?”

“In theory, yes,” he  _ should _ have been happy, but his anxiety was too great to ignore forever. Eventually his nightmares would come back, his deeds would haunt him yet again. And eventually those after him would find him again, and one more dead body would be left in his path. 

Images of Hanzo’s corpse were quick to cascade down upon his mind. The Okami was covered in his own blood, talon agents standing over him. Taunting him. It was his fault, his fault for forming any relationships and thinking he could have something good, his fault for staying and hoping and  _ wanting - _

His hands were shaking, something he noticed only when Hanzo’s own hand wrapped around them to stop it. It helped soothe the action, but not his head. He was still shaking everywhere else, and his eyes had subconsciously dragged back up towards the darkness of the alleyway to watch for the danger. “But you don’t understand. The people who want me aren’t people who give up on these kinds of things. It’s not… it’s strange that they’ve all of a sudden simply… left me alone.”

“You still doubt your safety,” Hanzo objectively stated, huffing as if offended. “You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me, because nothing I do not want to find me will.”

The statement is hardly comforting, even though he knew it should have been and it was what Hanzo was striving for. But he had been in this situation far too many times. He’d hidden, he’d used magical charms and potions to severe himself from prying eyes and yet despite it all they had all still found him. They always found him. Whenever he thought it was safe, he was proven wrong time and time again and Jesse couldn’t help but feel himself doubting the validity of Hanzo’s words.

This was one lie he couldn’t make himself believe. He could believe he was safe for a while, long enough to take a break, but to have someone tell him he’d never be found… it just couldn’t be true.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Simple. Nothing truly bad has found me for hundreds of years.”

Jesse’s mind falters and stutters to a halt at the statement. “Hundreds…  _ hundreds _ of years?”

“Indeed.”

The way Hanzo said it made it seem so… simple. Like it wasn’t a big deal at all. He himself had a strange rate of aging, but nothing  _ close  _ to such a time. It made him wonder how old Hanzo was, truly. He hardly looked a year above his own age, despite his silver hair. But it also made him concerned for the man for other reasons.

“How have you… survived so long?”

“I am an Okami, remember?”

“No… no I mean more like how have you just simply lived so long by yourself? With no one else?” he elaborates, and watches gravely as Hanzo’s face falls grim. It takes a while for the man to respond, but when he does his voice is weary and tired. It’s a topic he doesn’t want to discuss, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. All it took was a man with an equally fucked up past to recognize it.

“I wasn't always alone. I had my brother with me,” Hanzo murmurs in response, suddenly letting his hand drop from Jesse to instead fix his hair sporadically. Even when it’s meticulously clean and groomed he continues to work at it, and although Jesse yearns to help him he doesn’t know what to do. He just lets him. 

“Why did he decide to leave?” Despite knowing it’s a touchy subject, Jesse can’t help but ask. He wanted to know what was going on in Hanzo’s life, how long he had to stay alone. He knows he did the wrong thing when Hanzo’s eyes snap up to his and his nostrils flare, his expression close to that of a cornered animal looking for any possible way out. He steps back subconsciously, and upon realizing his demeanor Hanzo tried to calm down.

“He didn't, Jesse. He didn't get to decide anything.” His tone is bitter when he said it, and it wasn’t hard to understand what had happened, one way or another. The guilt in his eyes… it could really only mean one thing, and the sudden shake in his hands as he continued meticulously fixing his hair, the strained expression… it didn’t take a genius to figure it out that some way or another Hanzo was responsible for his brother’s death. But despite it, even as Jesse’s conscience told him it was wise to fear this man… he couldn’t. He’d killed too.

“I’m sorry…” he gives empathy a shot, only to be shut down by a cold glare from Hanzo. 

“There's nothing you could be sorry about. You weren't the one who caused it.” The answer turned him obstinate, rising up to the challenge with a glare of his own. 

“I can still be sorry about it, can't I?”

Hanzo is silent for a moment, and for a split second Jesse wishes he could take the entire conversation back and pretend it didn’t happen. He didn’t need to bring it up, never needed to goud Hanzo into talking about it, but now it was too late and he didn’t even know how to apologize. He just waits, hopes for the best.

What he gets is Hanzo’s fist suddenly balling up the collar of his shirt and sharply tugging him forward with a snarl, a fury in his eyes that had not been present before striking fear into his heart. He can see every intricate detail of those eyes locked fiercely onto his own, and although his heart anticipates one thing… he knows the exact opposite would most likely happen. 

“Why do you still stay?” Hanzo snarled, pulling Jesse even closer, his tone accusatory and vicious. “You made it clear you want to leave, and yet just a simple request from me keeps you here. Are you not afraid?” 

“What would there be afraid of, sugar?” he murmurs innocently, even as Hanzo bears his fangs at the statement, leering as if knowing he was trying to play dumb. Most likely knowing he was trying to play dumb. But still he answers, as if to convince himself more than Jesse.

“ _ Everything.  _ Everything I am and was and will forever be!” 

“See I don't know what you were, but that don't matter too much to me. And right now… everything you are is a man who saved my life and seems to severely regret decisions he had made in his past,” Jesse calmly replied, surprised at his level headedness in the situation. Hanzo could kill him with a flick of a wrist, of that he was sure. And yet… he trusted him. Far more than he probably should have. 

“But why do you  _ stay? _ ”

“I…” He thought about that night, about the feelings that had spurred him into an action he had known would be the death of him. He thought about who he would be without Hanzo, where he’d have ended up. Dead, probably. Maybe worse. Talon wasn’t known for their mercy in these situations. 

But most importantly he thought about Hanzo. His hands, his eyes, his warmth and his scent. The way he moved, the confidence he excreted that caused Jesse to feel safe. The scars that littered his body but didn’t seem to bother him, a beautiful map spreading across his pale flesh and yearning to be explored.

Why did he stay? He stayed because despite everything he needed Hanzo. He stayed because he felt the Okami needed the same. He stayed because he hadn’t yet had the courage to tell Hanzo what he felt, or to truly explore who the man was from the inside out. 

But the words caught in his throat, pent up frustration building up more and more the longer he couldn’t speak and the longer Hanzo sought an answer he could not give from his eyes. The frustration paired with the need to talk caused him to do what, in hindsight, might have been the stupidest thing he had ever done. He hadn’t been thinking about it then, however. It was why he had been brave enough to do it.

With one swift movement he leaned forward and chanced it, lifting his hand up to reach for Hanzo’s chin and guiding his mouth up to press his lips against the man’s own. He might have imagined it but he felt Hanzo’s lips slightly part to release a soft breath, and he finally got a taste of Hanzo. It tasted like his tea, but sweeter, more full of life and soul. He couldn’t help but sigh against the man’s lips, lost in a euphoric state that rendered him numb to reality.

Until he opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into Hanzo’s. 

The Okami’s pupils had turned to slits, the browns of his eyes now looking like a sea of molten gold around them. There was a dangerous sharpness in his gaze, and it didn’t stray off of the man when he moved back violently, hand flying up to cover his mouth as shock invaded his system. He couldn’t tell what Hanzo was thinking, but it really didn’t take a genius to figure out he screwed up.

“Shit… fuck, I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry Hanzo I shouldn't have done that I just wasn't thinking straight, something got to me-”

He was cut of when Hanzo’s hands clutched the collar of his shirt, dragging him in close with nails that were at that point basically claws that barely missed his skin. He expected it, really. He’d be pissed off if something like that happened as well, although to beat people up was… a bit of a stretch. Then again, he didn’t know what kind of temperament Hanzo had. He’d never gotten to know that part of the man, never had the need or want to see what made him tick. But Jesse was still ready to get the shit beaten out of him like he undoubtedly deserved. He had crossed a personal boundary in a rather… intense way, to put it lightly. But he wasn’t prepared for what was to come instead.

He barely had time to get a lungful of air before he was being dragged back down roughly into Hanzo. Instead of receiving a fist, or even anything remotely resembling anger he was being led into another, deeper and more desperate kiss than the one he had initiated upon impulse alone. To say it caught Jesse off guard was an understatement, and it took him a second to wrap his mind around what was going on.

Him. Hanzo. Doing this. It was all coming to him like through molasses, but once he was able to finally acknowledge the weight of the situation his mind seemed to explode in colors and sensations. He felt everything, every ghost of a touch against his body, the heat radiating off of Hanzo. His scent. His scent was intoxicating, and he sharply inhaled to get even more of it inside of himself.

He felt Hanzo’s fangs pressing against his lips, stopping just short of breaking through the skin and significantly larger than what he had previously observed. Something stirred inside of him at the knowledge, an instinctual and animalistic quality that made itself eagerly known to both him and Hanzo. With a low, guttural growl he grasped at Hanzo’s hips tightly enough to bruise, pushing the Okami as close to himself as possible. Maybe in his disillusioned state he just imagined it, but he thought that Hanzo had accepted it far too eagerly.

The small nip to his lips removed all doubt from his head. He didn't let Hanzo leave when the man attempted to move backwards to give him space for it was the last thing he needed. What he needed was  _ this _ . Hanzo’s body pressed flush against his own, his perfect lips melded into his own. For his fears and anxieties to melt like snow under the Okami’s gentle touch, under his captivating scent. 

He sighed softly against those lips, and found that when he did Hanzo’s tongue asked for entrance. He gave it freely, a soft sound escaping him once Hanzo took the initiative and it seem less like Jesse was holding him there… and more like he was the one eagerly keeping their bodies together. He didn't lift his hands up, holding onto Hanzo like his life depended on it. But Hanzo, on the other hand, had other plans. His hands roamed across the full expanse of Jesse’s body, never stopping anywhere for more than a second before moving on. It was enthralling, each touch barely there and yet more than he could handle. 

Pair that up with the fact that Hanzo seemed to be kissing him like his own life depended on it, and Jesse swore that if he wasn't somehow actually already dead that he could die happy now. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that once they broke apart both men were panting for breath and that Hanzo’s face and lips looked positively flushed. They stayed together for a few moments until Hanzo finally shifted back to give him space, and only then did Jesse realize that at some point during their engagement he had been pressed up against the wall of the alley. 

He wondered if he looked as giddy as he felt, and tried to play it off as cool as Hanzo was. Other than his reddened lips and still slightly flushed face, the Okami seemed far more clear headed than Jesse felt like. He felt like he was in the clouds, and he didn't quite feel like coming down.

“That wasn't the answer I was expecting,” Hanzo mused, watching the gunslinger attempt and fail to regain his bearings. It must have been some sort of magic that had a part in all of this. He'd never had a problem getting his shit together until he kissed the damn thing. He coughed awkwardly, pushing his hair back from his eyes and noting Hanzo doing the same. The white hair seemed to ripple like silk behind the Okami, and Jesse found himself suddenly longing to run his fingers through it, to play with it without end.

He let those thoughts dwindle, although they hardly died down. They were still very much alive inside of his mind, but he was trying as hard as he could to organize himself and they weren’t helping.

He coughed again, before straightening up and trying to look as cool as possible even though his shirt, hair and expression were without a doubt disheveled. 

“That… wasn’t the reaction I was expecting towards my unexpected answer.” When Hanzo chuckled, he felt like he was in heaven. 

“I thought… you had been sent here to kill me, to lure me into a sense of comfort then to cover your tracks by leaving so that whoever you knew could take care of me,” Hanzo softly murmured soon after, watching Jesse thoughtfully, mournfully even. “I am sorry for having such thoughts. I know now I was wrong.” 

He hadn’t been looking for an apology, especially not now, but he figured it was appreciated either way. He knew what it was like when paranoia pervaded every pore of your system, however. He couldn’t judge Hanzo for having such ideas, although one question did rise up in his mind at the prospect. 

“So then why didn’t you kill me the moment you suspected that?”

Hanzo watched him for a few more moments, before smiling sadly and then moving forward to gently cup his cheek. He expected another kiss, but instead the Okami just ran his thumb gently across his skin. It still left him dizzy, heart straining and yearning for more despite having just gotten it. He felt like a man starved of affection, and all of this was both too much and not enough at the same time.

“You know the answer, Jesse.”

And he did. It was the same answer he had given Hanzo. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

An hour hadn’t even passed since they came back from the town, and yet the two men seemed unable to keep their hands off of each other the moment they passed through the door that marked their sanctuary. All the animosity of their interactions had been stripped away, and by the way they acted it was hard to imagine them anywhere other than all over each other.

He was almost ashamed of how unabashedly he sought out Hanzo’s touch. Almost, but not quite enough to stop him from doing it. The moment they returned home the packages were easily discarded and all it took was a slight, hopeful gaze in Hanzo’s direction to suddenly find himself pressed against the door to Hanzo’s room being indulged in kisses that were both long and passionate and fervently quick. He was impossibly lost in them, able only to make soft sounds that were intertwined with Hanzo’s name on his tongue. The man in mention ate it all greedily, taking up every space available to him and pressed against him perfectly. 

Hanzo seemed just as hungry as he was, touching him like he had been starved of the ability to do so for years.

Maybe not years, but they  _ had _ been skirting around each other for nearly a month now before this encounter. The fervor of the moment made it impossible to believe that just mere hours ago they had been nothing, not even something Jesse could have called friends of fear of getting attached.

Oh boy was he getting attached  _ now;  _ in more than one way.

Hanzo’s lips gradually travelled down to the muscle chords connecting his neck and shoulders, and Jesse shivered in delight when he nipped at the sensitive flesh. He continued to work on his skin, painting it in marks like he was a canvas. And Jesse willingly gave himself up to the man, enjoying each and every second he got to bask in Hanzo’s attention, each soft caress that sent him careening even more violently over the edge of sanity. 

What truly sent him over the invisible ledge was when Hanzo’s lips brushed over his collarbone, and instead of ending it in a kiss like he expected he whispered one, soft,  _ careful _ word against his skin.

“Gorgeous.”

The breath caught in his throat, his heart aching with a feeling he couldn't understand. Jesse grasped at Hanzo’s side like he was a lifeline, letting a soft moan escape him when Hanzo carefully continued to explore. But even as the okami moved on, most likely thinking very little of the softly spoken word he had murmured, it stayed with Jesse the entire time they stayed entangled in each other’s bodies. 

It was not a word he heard often in regards to himself. He couldn't remember a partner who had ever even considered using it, let alone dripping with such affections as Hanzo seemed to have an excess of. What he was used to was quick fucks and then letting go, pretending that everything was alright. He never had this. He never dared to even hope. 

But even as his thoughts turned into ideas of sex, Hanzo refused to touch him below his waist. Jesse’s impatience made itself known, but he was quick to push it down and out of his mind. He didn't need Hanzo inside of him to enjoy this. In a way, he was much more willing to let it end at their patient exploration. As much as he was a man who enjoyed getting thoroughly fucked out of his mind, the last thing he wanted was for this to be a sex thing. He didn’t want Hanzo to get tired of him, to claim him and mark him and then act like nothing had ever happened. 

He'd go for years without it if it's what kept Hanzo glued to his side. Jesse was selfish, stubborn, but above all he was so damn  _ lost _ in Hanzo that it was pathetic. He swore that the moment the man wasn’t his, wasn’t by his side one way or another he’d lose everything worth living for. He’d go back to who he was before, wandering aimlessly and hoping a goal would eventually make itself known.

This was his goal now. This and so much more, but every single plan was hinged on the idea that Hanzo would remain with him.

And so eventually it did end without going anywhere else, Hanzo's kisses turning chaste and his hands seemingly pleased with how much of Jesse they had gotten to explore that day. His, too, were happy. He had managed to get Hanzo’s shirt off much like Jesse had lost his to the curious okami. He had gotten more than his share of skin to mark, spending maybe more time and attention than needed on his chest and the spiraling tattoo covering the entirety of his left arm. 

He hadn't gotten away scott free, either. Most of Jesse skin had been gently treated but he had learned quickly that Hanzo had quite the bite to him. The more sensitive areas had been left alone, but every piece of flesh Hanzo deemed safe to bite had been marked up feverently. 

Not that he minded.

Both of them were flushed when they pulled back to give the other space. Hanzo had pushed him onto the bed long ago, and now he rested idly by his side propped up on one elbow and using his other hand to trace the scars on his chest. His fingers occasionally tangled through the coarse hairs present there, forcing Jesse’s eyes closed to enjoy the sensation even more. 

They stayed in comfortable silence, although Jesse could tell both of them were stuck inside of their own respective thoughts. He wasn't sure what Hanzo’s were, but his own largely consisted of wondering what he had done to deserve this. He had done nothing right to warrant this type of affection, he'd done things far worse than what he assumed Hanzo could have done in a lifetime. To have him by his side seemed like both a dream and a nightmare. Whatever they had, it was real, it was there. But the most terrifying thing was that he didn't know when it would end. 

“Have you ever loved anyone before?”

Hanzo’s voice brought him out from his thoughts and he shifted ever so slightly to watch the Okami. He still hadn't quite stopped his wandering, captivated by his skin. He enjoyed the heat of his caress for a few more moments before he let the weight of the question fully settle in. He hadn't been focused enough to recall if the inquiry had been made with a hint of jealousy to it, but Hanzo’s gentle gaze didn't seem to hold any ill will in it and Jesse let himself relax back into the sheets and melt into Hanzo’s light touches. 

He had to think over the question for a moment. It wasn't as simple as giving an answer, for he hadn't ever led a life simple enough to consider things like crushes or love interests. You took what you could in his like of work; whether it be no more than a quick fuck or something more that no one dared to acknowledge for fear of losing it.

Those fears always ended up coming true.

Jesse’s brow furrowed at the realization as he stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore he painful sensation in his heart. The ever present question of what would happen in the future still loomed above him, and he couldn't help wonder what would happen with them as well. He didn't know what to even call them. Love was too fragile a word.

“I don't know,” he answered truthfully, shutting his eyes to better envision his past. Usually it wasn't a problem; most memories fought for dominance with his everyday life and to bring them up was as easy as breathing. But it was the more positive things he couldn't recall. Faces were blurred, always just dark shadows with vaguely coherent features to distinguish them from the others. 

“I had…  _ someone _ once. But what we were was not so cut and dry,” he murmured, shifting so that he was on his side, staring at Hanzo’s intently thoughtful expression. His eyes grazed over the Okami’s body briefly before returning to Hanzo’s eyes, which quietly reassured him to go on. 

“I've never… had a chance to truly love someone. Not in my line of work. I don't know by now whether we were together because of such a frivolous word or something different, a need to be with someone deeper than feelings.

“Times were different then. We were both part of a group with… controversial ideals. You stuck to those who stuck to you, and somehow we got stuck together.

“He had the most gorgeous of eyes… blue, always reminded me of a storm especially when he became so akin to one. We found comfort in each other’s presence and did what we could to achieve our high before it was all inevitably lost due to our poor life decisions.”

He released a breath, a sad laugh escaping along with it. They had been close, at least as close as Deadlock allowed people to be. But he didn't know if it was love that connected them more than the instinctual need to have someone to warm the bed at night, to have a shoulder to lean on when the nightmares got too out of hand. Their sex had been wonderful, but it had been rough and quick; it was a means to achieve an end, and although the end was more than satisfying it had never truly been…  _ enough.  _

“What happened to him?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. I wouldn't be surprised if he was either rotting in prison right now or already dead. Overwatch didn't give many mercy, and he was neither as sharp or as good of an aim as others. He was expendable. People like that never got a chance,” his tone was bitter at the prospect, and Jesse scoffed as he was yet again reminded of the wonderful tactics of the group that hired him. 

Sometime during his stay he had started to doubt that their motives were entirely good. In war there was never a clear side to pick. 

“And you weren't?” Hanzo gently prompted, and although Jesse was vaguely aware that he was most likely sharing too much, he decided to talk nevertheless.

“No, I didn't seem to be. I was given an option that many didn't get to make, and in order to save my hide I took it.”

He sighed into Hanzo’s hand when it touched his cheek, turning his head around in order to bury it there. Jesse stayed in that position for a while as Hanzo patiently waited, but eventually he turned back to the ceiling with a false smile plastered onto his face. He wanted to pretend everything was fine again, and thinking of the past hurt too much to do it. He regretted talking to Hanzo about it briefly, but eventually gave in to the fact that he had  _ needed _ to do it. Letting go was healthy, something he recalled Fareeha nagging to him about. 

He wondered if Hanzo had something to let go of. 

“How about you? Have you ever loved someone?” He asked carefully, watching Hanzo’s face contort into a thoughtful grimace. But he didn't shy away from the inquiry like Jesse expected. He had been expecting it, knowing that if he had the right to ask the gunslinger about his past that Jesse likewise had the right to get to know about Hanzo’s. 

“I… no,” Hanzo started, finally letting his hand drift off of Jesse’s body slowly, as if he didn't really want to. Jesse didn't want him to, but he didn't voice the complaint and let Hanzo retract his hand to the bed. 

“Not someone but  _ something. _ A concept, an idea,” Hanzo murmured, staring at the wall in visibly bittersweet thought. His brows were furrowed, muscles strained, and Jesse attempted to soothe him with a hand pressed to his back. It worked. The man sagged forward at his touch with a deep, frustrated exhale of breath. 

“Feel like sharing what that was?” Jesse gently prodded, earning him a knowing look from Hanzo. He raised his hands in faux innocence, mustering his best “I’m just asking, I swear” look, happy when the Okami’s lips twitched slightly upwards. 

He dipped down back towards Jesse, catching his lips with his own in a long yet gentle kiss. It left his head reeling when he pulled away, and he unconsciously pressed his hand to Hanzo’s bare back to keep him there. It worked, although Hanzo released a fake exasperated scoff and rolled his eyes before sinking back to lay on top of Jesse, arms tucked under his chin and those hauntingly beautiful eyes staring up at him.

He forgot that he had even asked a question until Hanzo was talking to him. 

“I always loved freedom,” Hanzo murmured the words carefully, as if he didn’t quite trust Jesse yet with such intimate information. It made his heart swell at the thought that despite that Hanzo  _ did _ trust him enough to share, however carefully and quietly it was. 

“The problem was that it… had never been given to me. I was in love with a concept I could never have,” he murmured, finally returning to gently stroking Jesse’s skin. His eyes never wandered from his face, however, and Jesse continued to get eagerly lost in his expression. 

“I had people to warm my bed, yes, but it was never  _ them _ I truly wanted. It was what they represented, the silent promise that someday someone would whisk me away to that place I had always wished for.”

Something unsavory caught in Jesse’s throat as an idea popped into his head. His doubts started to make themselves known to him, whispering questions of Hanzo’s sincerity and affecting him deeply to his core. Was he just another tool for Hanzo, a replaceable object? Or were his affections true?

Hanzo seemed to have caught on to Jesse’s thoughts, for he pressed a hand gently to his jaw and gazed sincerely up at him with a reassuring smile. “You are unlike all of them, Jesse. I would not have let you stay for so long by my side if you were not.”

It eased his mind just a bit, but the question still remained in his head. How was he different than any of them? He was hardly a saint, and although he had never wished to see Hanzo unhappy in order to keep himself pleased… he had still been selfish. He still wanted Hanzo all to himself, to steal him away for moments like this as much as possible. 

“How long did… you stay with all the others?” He dared to ask, finding it comforting to know that Hanzo was willing to answer when he released a thoughtful hum and seemed to think upon a response. 

“Days, at most. Hours more frequently,” he replied, stretching out briefly and then letting his hands rest on Jesse’s shoulders. “I quickly learned that what most wanted was the exact opposite of my goals. Instead of freeing me they seemed focused on keeping me tied down, caging me like everyone before them.”

“Sounds like an idiotic thing to try and do,” Jesse mused in response, trying and failing to visualize Hanzo in a life where he was nothing but an accessory. “Can’t imagine you leading a life like that.”

He didn’t get much of a response after that, getting just a soft agreeing scoff before Hanzo seemed to retreat back into his mind to brood. His brows furrowed together, a non-too pleasing expression transforming and contorting his features into something resembling a grimace. Jesse didn’t enjoy looking at it, unable to do anything to help. It was why he was beyond relieved when Hanzo’s eyes cleared again and resettled sharply on him.

“I was afraid that you would not return my feelings,” he started before Jesse could get a word in, hurried as if afraid to be interrupted by anything wishing to stop him. “I struggled each day knowing I could not keep you to myself as much as I yearned for it.”

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh, although struggling through it having such a heavy mass settled on top of him. Hanzo was staturely smaller than him, but between now and when he had first saw the man partially naked, Jesse had only affirmed his observances that the man was mostly muscle.

“I don’t think I kept my interests very subtle here, sugar,” he mused in response, quirking a brow down at Hanzo questioningly. He was quick to drop his light attitude when Hanzo didn’t return them, staring seriously up at Jesse in return. 

His next question was far more stern as a result.

“Why didn’t you say anything then? Could have thrown this old dog a bone ages ago and skipped past a lot of the awkward build up.”

“Because it would not be fair to you if I ended up leaving with you only to leave in full. I had to be sure, had to be sure that it was Jesse McCree I was in love with and not the freedom that came with him.”

“Are you sure now?” he asked softly, lifting a hand to cup Hanzo’s cheek and jaw, running his thumb over the man’s lip and watching in awe as it parted slightly to his touch. 

“Yes,” Hanzo whispered in turn, sounding equally as frightened to let his affections be so blatantly known.

“Not gonna lie, was very hard to resist doing what I did the moment I saw you. Guess I had a bit more self control than I thought,” he mused carefully, watching Hanzo’s mouth quirk upwards in a slight smile. It was still all so hesitant, so fragile. It made his heart ache in all the right places to see it. 

“As it was to resist you,” the man admitted quietly, then shut his eyes with a deep exhale of breath. Jesse was content to just watch him for a few more moments before he decided to speak again.

“Ain’t gotta do much more resisting though, do we?” 

Hanzo’s eyes fluttered open, the dark pools of color settling back on him and almost instantly filling with affection. He chuckled and shook his head no, shifting yet again on Jesse’s body for better comfort 

“No, I suppose not,” he started, his tone turning coy and mirthful. “But do not expect me to suddenly change either. My personality is genuine and I do not have plans of changing it to fit someone else.”

“The moment I ask you to change I give you full permission to punch me in the face and bring me back to my senses,” Jesse responded with the same hints of amusement in his voice. But they gave way to a firmer and more serious tone when he continued, staring down at the Okami yearnfully. “You’re the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me… I’d be an idiot to think of wanting anything more.”

Hanzo didn’t reply, instead opted to close his eyes with a soft smile gracing his lips. He seemed content, more so than he had at any point before this. It was almost like he belonged there, resting either next to or on top of Jesse without any other care in the world. And he knew he was being selfish by wanting to stay like that forever, but Jesse couldn’t help himself. Hanzo wasn’t the only one who was happy like this. 

But the problem was that he still didn’t know how long this could possibly last. He was Jesse McCree, his life didn’t just go  _ right.  _ His problems couldn’t just disappear with a soft touch from a magical creature, couldn’t cease to exist with a kiss. If anything those two affections only added to the problems already piled up inside of his mind. The questions persisted no matter what: what would happen to him if Hanzo got bored, if he stopped having whatever feelings he was having? Where would he go when he had nowhere else to run? How long could he just sit here and pretend everything was alright when so many thoughts and pressing matters had his mind on hyperdrive. 

“I can’t…” the words left him on impulse, and he quickly shut his mouth to stop anything more from spilling out. It was too late, however. Hanzo’s eyes were sharply focused on him again, curious and worried. But Jesse didn’t let his problems be known, shaking his head to prompt Hanzo to forget about it. 

His thoughts were pervading his system at that point, worrying less over his future as a person and more over his future with Hanzo. It troubled him that he didn’t know what to call them. He couldn’t bring himself to use the world love - it was too fragile of a word, and it was stupid to try to attach such sentiments to two grown men who had a plethora of problems between them. He was convinced that most of them came from him, for he didn’t have a shortage of problems that rendered him screwed beyond repair. 

It was stupid of him to think he could stay like this for long. He didn’t deserve good things in life, it was as simple as that. Someone like Hanzo deserve someone better, in any case. 

“I can’t let you fall in love with me,” he softly murmured, surprising even himself by the words. But now that they were out, there wasn’t much else left to hide. He continued despite the warnings blaring inside of his mind. “You don’t know anything about me, about who I am and what I’ve done.”

Hanzo shifted once more, accidentally jabbing an elbow into his side that made him wheeze out. With a quickly murmured apology the man carefully maneuvered himself until he was comfortably staring down at Jesse. His body hovered over the gunslinger’s, the man’s strong arms planted firmly on either side of him. Jesse first noted the silvery hair falling down and shadowing his face, pooling around them like spun silver. The second thing he noticed was the gravely serious expression Hanzo had plastered onto his face, forcing Jesse to look into his blazing eyes even as he begged to look away.

“There is much you do not know about me, Jesse, just as there is much I do not know about you,” Hanzo firmly started once he was sure Jesse was paying attention. “Likewise you cannot dictate who or what I fall for,” his hand lifted up from the bed to press against the rough area of Jesse’s heart, and he felt it leap up as if it was metal and there were magnets in the okami’s fingers. He sucked in a sharp, anticipated breath when Hanzo dipped down, lips just short of brushing his own. But he did not kiss him, instead hovered there briefly before speaking softly. 

“But there is one thing I know, and it is that I did not fall for you because you are a bad man.”

He paused briefly, but then continued in a rush to get the words out. Maybe Hanzo needed to say it, or perhaps he thought that Jesse needed to hear it. Maybe both, but he doubted the latter until Hanzo’s lips opened once more to speak.

“The moment I lay my eyes on you I knew that you were not like anyone else, not like the others. There is a weight I feel but it is nothing compared to the light inside of you.”

“You doubt your humanity still?” He leaned forward to finally kiss Jesse, and the man leaned into it eagerly, hands slithering up Hanzo’s side to end up at the small of his back and press him closer. They didn’t take long to separate, although the heat of Hanzo’s lips still lingered on his own. 

“You are more human than anyone else I know.”

Although the words were flattering, Jesse couldn’t help but doubt them. Hanzo didn’t know what he was saying, especially about that last part. There was hardly any sign of humanity left inside of him anymore, and it would take only one mistake to let it all show. He was far from a saint, so it wouldn’t even be that hard to slip. He didn’t want to lose Hanzo to it, but he was already ready to face that problem when it arose. It was inevitable, and Jesse found that he found a small bit of comfort in knowing what was to come. 

For now he felt content to let it all slip, to let the doubts die down even briefly and to enjoy himself and this moment, and every moment following it until it was over. With a soft sigh he let his troubles dissipate, and he rested his hand between the okami’s shoulder blades to comfort both of them. 

“What are we, Hanzo?” the question is gently spoken, curious eyes peering down at the man he was growing more comfortable considering his new lover. He wanted to hear it from Hanzo, however, to hear what they were and would eventually be. He wanted to know if he needed those kinds of words to describe them, wanted to know what they meant to the okami.

“We are us. There is no need to call it anything more,” the answer was simple, and Jesse found them oddly comforting. They were them; they were together, they existed there in that moment with feelings that were true even if they might have eventually ended up fleeting. They were alive, and fate had somehow drawn them together for one reason or another

Jesse twisted around, pulling Hanzo down with him into a tight embrace. He breathed in the okami’s scent deeply, scenting along his neck, his jaw, his hair. It all smelled like him, like the tea he drank and like the subtle comforting magic of Ana’s small shop. It was soothing, and he felt the doubts inside of his mind float away like they never existed in the first place.

He had never fallen asleep easily, not even when he was in Deadlock and had someone to fall asleep with. But that evening the fatigue won over the nightmares and the fear of closing his eyes. Jesse didn’t have anything to fear at that moment; Hanzo was there to protect him if things went awry, and he put his full trust in the okami despite better judgement screaming that he was a soft-hearted fool.

He was out cold in a matter of minutes, missing Hanzo’s soft murmur against his chest.

“You are my freedom, Jesse."

He wouldn’t have known what to say if he had been awake in the first place.

* * *

He didn’t know how long he was asleep for, only that when he woke up Hanzo was still resting easily in his arms, and his arms were wrapped tightly around Jesse’s midsection to keep him in place. At first he didn’t notice anything vastly out of place aside from the fact that Hanzo was there in the first place. But after a few moments of simply watching Hanzo sleep he realized what was wrong. 

Although he had grown used to Hanzo’s rather strict and formal presentation, the haughty way he carried himself and the confidence he excreted… he had never seen Hanzo as someone with his own mental troubles. The okami seemed healthy in every single possible meaning of the word, in both body and mind. But in his rest the man seemed far less so.

His entire body seemed strained, stiff underneath Jesse’s touch. His brows were furrowed together, and whereas at first Jesse mistook his grip for simple need to be in his space, he realized soon after that it wasn’t the case at all. Hanzo seemed curled upon himself, clinging onto Jesse like he was a lifeline rather than simply an object of his affection. His grip was just a bit too tight, his skin just a bit too pale, his jaw clenched just a bit too tight. Worry was quick to settle in Jesse’s stomach and he wasted little of the precious time he had to wake Hanzo up.

“Han, sugar, wake up” he gently prompted, carefully trying to jouste Hanzo from his troubled rest. It took a few more shakes and soothing words for him to rise, head snapping up and arm tightening around Jesse’s stomach. He let out an ungraceful wheeze when the air was knocked out of his lungs, but soon felt it return when Hanzo quickly released him and scrambled away to try and give him space. 

“I- I am sorry, Jesse, I had not realized-“

“No, no it’s fine sugar,” Jesse was quick to assure him, hands flying up to stop him from talking. “I’m completely fine, believe me. Right now I’m now worried about you,” he murmured, but found that when he aimed to shift closer to Hanzo the man shrunk away from his touch. His hands were quick to move back down to his sides at the realization, worry gnawing even deeper into his bones. 

“Are you okay?”

“I.. I am fine, just…” it sounded like Hanzo wanted to say something more, to perhaps chance explaining his situation, but with a stubborn look and a shake of his head he decided against it. “No. I am fine.”

Jesse decides not to pry, although it was pretty obvious something was  _ not _ fine. He had never mastered the ability to squeeze the problems out of people, however. He could do little but give up and silently struggle with seeing Hanzo like… this.

“Alright, sweetpea… but if you ever need to talk I’ll be here,” he murmured soothingly, glad to see that Hanzo was at least willing to listen to that. The man nodded, although his expression remained borderline defiant, before sighing and then hesitantly shuffling back towards Jesse. He took him in with open arms, both literally and metaphorically. When Hanzo pressed himself against Jesse’s chest he wrapped his arms around the Okami firmly, hoping that whatever ailed him… that this would be enough for the time being. Jesse had very little else to his name. 

“Just stay with me for the moment. You do not need to understand, just stay,” he mumbled into Jesse’s chest, causing him to tighten his hold. That he could do, it was something he had indirectly promised to fulfill the moment he gave up on trying to run so hard. He could stay; perhaps not understand, maybe he’d never understand, but he could stay even a little while longer to help.

They stayed in their warm embrace for a good few minutes before a thought started to nag at the back of Jesse’s head. It burrowed itself under his mind and skin like an itch, and although he tried his hardest to ignore it… eventually Jesse lost.

“I need to go back to talk to An- I mean… the alchemist.”

Hanzo leaned back at the sudden outburst, suspicion briefly flashing through his eyes before a stone mask replaced the emotion and cut Jesse off completely from what the man was thinking. He was analyzed for a moment, growing more and more unnerved with each passing second that Hanzo refused to answer him.

The next word filled him with both relief and dread at the same time.

“Why?”

He couldn’t share his revelations with Hanzo at that moment, of fear of driving him away. He was determined to keep the man in the dark for as long as possible to his intentions, knowing that the truth… well, the truth would hurt. The truth was that despite everything Jesse could not stay here forever, not even when he agreed to staying for longer than he had anticipated. He had men on his back no matter what Hanzo believed, but more importantly he was on someone else’s back, a lead that was always just out of his reach.

Ana Amari was the first person who could make that lead concrete.

“I have something I need to talk to her about, part of our past together. It’s been… a few long, lonely years since I’ve seen anyone comforting. Just wanna talk to her, you know?” He wasn’t sure how convincing he sounded, but it seemed that years of undercover work and lying worked wonders on his charisma. Hanzo’s suspicion outwardly dissolved, and he went back to leaning pliantly against Jesse with a small huff.

“Of course. But…” he could sense that Hanzo wanted to say something, and in order to gently get it out he rubbed the man’s back soothingly. It took a few seconds but eventually he caved, blurting the words out as quickly as possible as if afraid the smallest pause would force him into silence.

“You will return, right?”

He ached something fierce at the thinly veiled fear in Hanzo’s voice. He could hear it in his tone that despite trying hard to forget, to trust that Jesse would not go against his word… he didn’t believe the lies he fed himself for a second. It only made him think back upon their conversation, about the idea that no one had ever been able to stay for more than a few days with Hanzo, that he hadn’t ever trusted enough to keep someone alongside him for as long as he had been.

He didn’t want to leave, but he had to. But he could promise Hanzo at least that much.

“Of course I will, sugar. You don’t have to worry about nothing.”

Hanzo waited a few moments longer, as if still trying to find every excuse to keep him there even if it meant lying on top of him and refusing to move. He was very close to actually executing that plan, already leaning dangerously on Jesse so that even one slight movement would have the man beneath him. It would be a very effective plan, too. It mattered less about strength and more about what having the okami on him would do to his mental state. 

But he eventually complied, reluctantly releasing Jesse to motion for him to go. He looked downtrodden and anxious about the prospect but he allowed it nevertheless. With one last, grateful look, Jesse prepared to leave.

* * *

The shop was just as busy as it had been when Jesse had first seen it, which was to say not at all. A few select customers hung around their designated shelves but other than that there was no one. Jesse wondered if Ana did anything outside of this to keep herself going. That, or if she was still secretly leeching off of the funds overwatch had given them all. 

Or maybe he was overthinking things and hadn’t ever bothered to even look into the economics of the town and how much it cost to rent a place.    


But despite not being full, Ana was still helping someone who apparently had a shit time trying to decide what they needed in order to concentrate better. Normally Jesse was a patient man, as he could often sit for hours upon end simply waiting for a target to either approach or leave, but this situation was vastly different. He was itching to talk, to share the concerns he had and to finally get  _ somewhere  _ with his theories. He didn’t want some idiot stalling him. 

If Ana notices his impatience as he bounces anxiously in line, she decides to stubbornly ignore it. He can’t help but think that she was doing it on purpose, listing off a mile long list of different potions she could supply just to keep him there for an eternity.

It certainly felt like one had passed once they were done and he finally had the woman to himself. 

“Jesse, nice to see you again. Hanzo isn’t with you?”

“No ma’am. He stayed home,” Jesse started, pausing when Ana lifted a brow curiously with her signature small, knowing, and positively frustrating smile.

“What?”

“So you’re calling that place home now?” She leaned forward on the counter, her smug grin expanding like she was the damn Cheshire Cat. “Charming. When’s the wedding?”

Jesse scoffed at both the notion and the typical Ana-esque behavior that he had near forgotten about. The word had simply slipped from his tongue. It was the first time he had been able to settle down in a place and not feel the itch to move, and so it functioned as a home as far as he was concerned.

But both he and Ana knew that it was more than that. He had never called the base his home, and he had stayed there for years. He must have been stuck in his thoughts for a while, that or it didn’t take long for Ana’s face to drop. She removed herself from the counter with an air of stoicness about her, before placing a hand on his shoulder and near commanding him to talk.

“What did you come to talk to me about, Jesse?” her tone was soft, but there was an air of finality about it. She expected an answer.

“How did you-“

“I can see it plain as day in your eyes. There’s something you want and it’s not a potion to make Hanzo fall wildly in love with you.” She was still not over that point, it seemed, and he let out a surprised noise when she reached up to fix his collar in a motherly gesture. “Not that you need one. Both of you are far less subtle than you thought, trust me. I’m an expert.”

He didn’t even have time to  _ think _ of a rebuttal before she was dragging him to the back room, and when he tried to ask about the customers she’d be leaving behind the alchemist was quick to shush him. 

“They’re less important. Now. Speak. If you’re so concerned about my customers, make it so that I’ll get back to them as fast as possible.”

The room was larger than he expected, a small office-like space that was full to the brim with shelves and boxes. He assumed the boxes had more alchemic reductions, but he didn’t know what half of them did anyways so it wasn’t that important for him to know. And yet he tried his best to look interested, to stare at one spot in the room as intently as he possibly could simply because he couldn’t bring himself to speak

He didn’t know where he’d start.

He guessed he’d start at the beginning.

“Ana, I think Gabriel is still alive,” he blurted the words out after a moment of silence, and for the first time since he’d seen her Ana looked… shocked. Pained. It hurt him to see her with that expression, one of hurt disbelief, but it was too late to retract his statement. He needed it to be said: she was the only solid person that could help him.

She didn’t answer him, didn’t even acknowledge the words. Instead she stood up, moving back towards a small desk and taking out a cup and a bottle. It smelled similarly like Hanzo’s, and he subconsciously leaned forward towards it. Ana didn’t offer the reduction to him, however, instead sitting down at a chair and cradling the cup between her hands carefully. 

“Sit down,” he did as he was told instantaneously, just as when the woman was still his commander. That part of him still seemed to persist, existed even as he tried to kill his past self. Even when he knew Ana wasn’t in control anymore, he waited for her command to speak even as his head screamed to talk despite it.

“Speak, Jesse. I’m listening,” the woman carefully prompted, and it was like all of his secrets, all of his memories let loose on his tongue with nothing to stop them.

“Ever since Overwatch disbanded, I just… Shit I just  _ knew  _ he wasn’t gone. There was no proof, and a man like that just doesn't die. He was… there were things he knew, things  _ I  _ knew that just simply didn’t add up,” he started, finding himself suddenly thumbing at his serape anxiously. “The moment I started searching for him, talon agents started to suddenly appear on my ass, and they’ve been damn persistent about either injuring me so they could capture me or just kill me outright to keep me from finding out the truth.”

“And I  _ know  _ that there’s a truth to be found. This has something to do with Reyes, I know it. And I need to find him. He’s the only one with the answers I need,” Jesse finished softly.

The silence was overwhelming, so much so that each subtle sound rang painfully in his ears. The clock was ticking just a bit too loud, the careful sips Ana was taking were irritating the very pores on his skin. He clenched his jaw to try and get rid of the feeling but it persisted nevertheless. He must have looked it, too, for Ana was suddenly at his side again, a gentle but certainly not frail hand covering the white knuckles on his hands that had appeared as a result of the strain of holding onto the seat so tightly. 

“Jesse,” he doesn’t look at her even as she urges him to pay attention. Instead his sunken eyes remained trained on the ground before him, working methodically to shut the screams down one by one. Each memory, locked carefully inside it’s box until the silence would return in his head.

“Jesse look at me,” he does, and he regrets the decision instantly. The sorrow in Ana’s eyes was enough to compete with his. Something in his stung, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. That wasn’t what he came here to do, and he didn’t need Ana to be neither his mother nor his therapist. 

“Jesse… some things should be let go.”

She didn’t believe him. Something he had been trying carefully to keep under control snapped inside of him, and he quickly retracted his hand from Ana’s embrace with a snarl.

“Like hell I’m letting go!” I know he's not dead, Ana. It's even more proof to me that you're here now with me too.”

“If… If you’re alive he has to be. He has to be alive too,” he whispered helplessly out, searching Ana’s warm eyes for any signs, for the hidden truth. “I just need to find out where he is.”

She stared at him carefully for a few more seconds, the epitome of calm even as Jesse sat there as a fuming, anxious mess of a man. He wanted to hide, to run away and pretend like it was alright, to not have to look at the  _ disbelief  _ in Ana’s eyes. He wanted to do it even more when Ana decided to speak, tone carefully calm and controlled.

“I can't tell you anything-”

“Ana please-”

“ _ Not _ because I don't want to tell you,” she cut him off quickly before he could continue, “but because I know nothing. My disappearance was not like Gabriel’s. I am truly convinced he is gone alongside Jack, but I can't stop you if you're certain.”

It was something, more than what he had hoped for. Perhaps Ana didn’t quite believe what he said was true, but he could see that deep inside she longed to understand what had happened as much as he did. Perhaps even more. Jack was not much more than a commander to him, and although Reyes was the closest thing he had to a father figure… the three commanders had a far stronger relationship that he did. 

It’s why he was even more determined to find Gabriel.

“I’m not asking you to say what you know about their deaths. I know that we were all in the blind about it. All I need is information, anything we have about current or former talon bases that he could have been taken to. But all the overwatch watchpoints have either been shut down for years or crawling with talon agents. I can't get in anywhere to find out.”

She watched him closely for a few more seconds, before setting her tea down back on the desk with a sense of purpose. He expected words, whether it be affirmation or a rebuttal, but he received nothing but her back as she turned around to seemingly ignore him. He stared helplessly at her, watching as she seemed to go back to work on papers as if expecting him to leave. He was ready to do just that, but Ana’s hand shooting up to stop him is successful in halting his stand. 

He stays silent, watching her fumble around drawers and papers a few seconds more, and she soon comes back up with a small chip. Hope rekindles in his heart, and he leans forward in interest in his seat.

“I really wish I could help you more, Jesse,” she murmured, extending her hand out to him to drop the chip in his eagerly outstretched palm. “But this is my life now, and I am happy here. It’s best for all of us if we leave Overwatch where it belongs… but I know from experience that it just isn’t enough for some. This should get you into any base you want, that much I can promise you. What I  _ can’t  _ promise is that you’ll find what you are looking for.”

It was still more than enough. Jesse knew he shouldn’t be excited, shouldn’t even think past the prospect that he’d find nothing. Common sense was screaming at him to listen to reasoning, to acknowledge the fact that even if he found something it didn’t mean he’d find his goal. But at that moment, Jesse simply didn’t care. He had a lead, a concrete destination for the first time in years. 

It was more than he could have hoped for. 

“Thank you, Ana. Thank you so much for this,” his voice was strained with unshed tears, of which Ana quickly got rid of with a warm hug. 

“Of course, Jesse. Now, run along back to your little friend. I’m sure he’s worried. The streets out here are questionable at best.”

His mind wandered to the alley briefly, but he shook of his unease in lieu of enjoying the small inkling of hope he had regained. 

He wasted no more time dawdling around, finally breaking off  their embrace with a soft smile. But Ana didn’t just let him leave without a hitch. Before he could leave, he heard her voice echo through the room once more, resonating far too clearly in his head as well. 

“Oh, and Jesse? Be a doll and don't ever bring the chip back to me. I’ve been holding on to the past for too long.” He says nothing, even if he recognized a thinly veiled warning when he hears one. Instead he walks out through the door and tries to forget how much it haunts him.

* * *

Thoughts echoed through his head the entire way back, soul full of adrenaline and excitement at the options he suddenly had available to him. He could get in anywhere, finally finish what he couldn’t get done before; not because of a lack of ambition but a lack of resources. All that was gone, leaving him with nothing but a clarity he hadn’t had in years.

He didn’t even have time to worry about what that would spell out for him and Hanzo.

His thoughts were cut short when he spotted a little trinket in a passing store window, and Jesse paused without meaning to to inspect it.

It was a small stone wolf, carved from a material that just bordered on marble but wasn’t quite it. The details were carved intricately into the tiny item, gorgeous lines and grooves creating a crisp image. His mind turned to Hanzo then, and he couldn’t help but frown. 

What would he tell Hanzo? 

The question nagged in the back of his head, forcing him to bob up and down in place as the nerves started to get to him. He couldn’t leave, had no way to explain to the Okami that he had to that seemed viable. He was being selfish once more. A frustrated noise left his throat and he fished out his wallet, counting the bills he had and walking in when he found he had more than enough.

The price tag was hefty, but no less than what he expected and what Hanzo deserved. It still wasn’t enough, and he wasn’t sure what prompted him to buy the gift. It would hardly serve as a good enough goodbye, but he couldn’t leave without giving Hanzo something. He’d never bought a gift with such frustration as he did then. Hanzo cared, gave him all… and all Jesse had to show for it was this, and barely even that. 

He was going to leave one way or another, and once again all he’d leave in his wake was destruction. A sour taste stuck to his tongue as he paid for the trinket, and followed him all the way home. As he passed the alleyway again, he slowed down to a brief halt to watch the darkness, still trying to find something that was simply not there.

Almost like his entire life.

Jesse clenched his jaw at the thought, only more determined to stare at the darkness to find something just to prove himself wrong. But the moment that he started to imagine eyes peering back out at him, the fear and unease were enough to drive him away in an instant, rushing to get back home.

* * *

When he gets back to the house he’s pleasantly surprised to find Hanzo waiting for him outside, the cold seemingly insignificant to the Okami as he wore nothing but his usual casual attire. A question dies on his tongue when the man damn near  _ glides  _ forward to meet him halfway on the stairs and gently guides him down into a short kiss.

When he pulls away there is no shortage of affection waiting for Jesse in those eyes. Hanzo doesn’t quite let go, hands still pressed firmly to Jesse’s sides.

“Did you find what you went looking for?” he inquired curiously, tilting his head slightly to the side and reminding Jesse of a damn puppy. 

“No,” he starts, surprised as he watches Hanzo’s expression drop at the statement. He’s quick to continue, hoping to erase the disappointment. “But I have something better.”

He didn’t tell Hanzo of his conversation with Ana, despite wondering whether or not he should. Eventually he deemed the topic unspeakable. It was a problem he had to deal with alone, not drag Hanzo into without his knowledge or consent. Besides, he didn’t even know how he was supposed to approach the subject himself, let alone tie Hanzo up in all of it. The loose ends just didn’t meet in a way that made it seamlessly capable. 

Instead he gently gripped Hanzo’s hand, urging his fingers open with a thumb. The Okami was willingly pliant under his touch, letting his fingers uncurl to reveal his exposed palm to Jesse. He placed the trinket he bought carefully on the pale expanse of flesh, before closing Hanzo’s fingers back around it.

“Saw it and made me think of you. Figured now that we’re doing… whatever it is we’re doing, I might as well buy you a gift. You know, especially since you got me one and all,” he explained, watching ecstatically as Hanzo’s expression seemed to brighten tenfold.

He looked thrilled, opening his palm to take the pendant and thumb along the lines and grooves with a surprisingly gentle touch. Jesse can’t help but marvel at his ability to be so caring and careful with arms that could with no doubt snap his neck if they wanted to. He is lost in thought until Hanzo surprises him by suddenly leaning up to kiss him. It was a quick peck, less affectionate than most of the ones they had shared thus far, and he wonders briefly if he had screwed up somewhere along the line. Worry gnaws at him and he tries to quickly save his skin when Hanzo interrupts his racing thoughts once more.

He was getting extremely good at that.

“You are in your head again,” he murmured softly in amusement against Jesse’s lips, throwing his hands around the gunslinger’s shoulders. He gulped, placing his hands hesitantly on Hanzo’s hips, and released a relieved breath when the man didn’t pull away. His grip became more sure, and he allowed himself to run a thumb over the thin fabric separating his skin from Jesse’s touch. Hanzo’s eyes fluttered closed, but he made no moves to return the favor and instead basked in the wolf’s heat.

“How could you tell?” Jesse murmured in question, prompting the corner of Hanzo’s lips to quirk upwards in coy amusement.

“Because I asked where you got it and then called your name twice and yet you still didn't respond.”

The answer caused Jesse to erupt into a sheepish laugh, hiding his worries even as they ate him from the inside out. Hanzo didn’t need to know anything. Jesse would be fine all on his lonesome. “Was just lost in my thoughts, sorry sugar.”

“It is fine,” Hanzo quickly asserts, moving back from Jesse and waving a hand dismissively. “Go, sit. I will make us food.”

He did what he was told to do, but once Hanzo leaves his mind turned to darker thoughts. He didn’t have a plan at this point, hardly even thought about it much, but he couldn’t sit around on his ass all day when he had such a substantial lead to finding Reyes, to answering all the questions that had been swimming in his head for years now. He was so  _ close.  _ The knowledge screamed in the back of his head and was impossible to ignore, even more so knowing that if Ana was alive of all people, his old commander had hell of a possibility of being alive too. 

But he had been correct in his assumptions that leaving now would hurt more than ever. He just didn’t know what he could risk losing more. 

He stared at the place Hanzo left with longing. He couldn’t bring the man along with him, it was too dangerous and he didn’t even want to think about what might happen as a result. Instead he quietly fumed over decisions and answers until Hanzo returned, plastering a fake smile to his lips and doing what he had learned to do best.

He lied that everything was alright.

  
  



End file.
